


Arc Two (ALaWR)

by KaeStela



Series: As Long as We Remember [4]
Category: Starbound (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Contains various OCs for Starbound, Multi, Science Fiction, Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-09-12 11:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16871899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaeStela/pseuds/KaeStela
Summary: The sequel to As Long as We Remember, picking up three months after the previous story's conclusion at the end of the original Starbound storyline





	1. Arc Two/While You've Been Gone

**Author's Note:**

> The chapters here are imported from my Tumblr and will consist of two weekly Tumblr posts each; titles are comprised of each post's title separated by a /, because I had some fun with making them~

“Give me the rundown again, Lumen. Has anything changed from your last report?” Her hands still felt a little clumsy and useless as they twisted her grey mane into a thick braid.

The orange Novakid tilted his head respectfully and offered her a hair tie. “Ain’t much else to tell, ma’am. Fern-fangs and our firebrand have been running bounties while ya’ve been restin’. I keep thinkin’ it ain’t wise, sendin’ our two rascals out together, but somehow they keep comin’ home safe between all the jinkin’ high and crackin’ wise. Brings in a tidy reward an’ cleans up this patch of the universe, one scoundrel at a time.” His glow brightened. “Makes ol’ Esther mighty happy, too, ‘cause it tells folks yer Protectorate ain’t done yet.”

“Our Protectorate, Lumen,” she reminded him. “You’re part of it too.”

A few sparks flickered across his brand as he laughed. “Darn right. I keep forgettin’… it feels strange, actually belongin’ to somethin’. But it ain’t a bad strange, not by a long shot.”

She laughed. “Think you could get used to it?”

Lumen flickered into the Novakid equivalent of a warm smile. “I already am.”

The captain stood up and crossed to the rack where her armor waited for her. It was lighter than she remembered; that was a good sign. After three months, she had expected it to be heavy. “So how have you and Oldarva been?” she asked as she slid the greaves on. “I notice she’s been spending a lot more time with you and Namina, when he’s here.”

His sudden hot, bright blush sent spots across her sight. “Eh, well, uh… we’re doin’ fine,” he said, voice almost distorted by a faint hum. “She’s learnin’ mighty quick with the doctorin’. Half that’s thanks to ya, of course, bein’ such a good patient.” He sparked, teasing. “And Ferny’s pickin’ up here and there too. Always brings me back supplies for makin’ medicine and the like.”

“Good,” she replied with a grin, “but you know that’s not what I’m asking.”

He hummed again, and his blush told her all she needed to know. His hands were hot but gentle as he helped her fasten the chestpiece on. The captain’s hand lingered a moment over her own heart, above the white scar that would never fade.

“Arrowmail and Arjun have been helpin’ out the old lady,” Lumen continued as he followed her out into the corridor. “Sonny tags along with them whenever she ain’t out scoutin’ with Hadley. Esther tells me she’s been a big help with decipherin’ them runes on the Ark. She ain’t great with language like Eldie is, but she sure has the knack for findin’ more carvin’s and the like. Sounds like they’re mighty close to uncoverin’ more secrets.”

“Really? …hopefully none too dangerous.” Her boots clicked against the polished floor and she resisted the urge to check her reflection in one of the windows. It still felt a little strange, not having tired circles under her eyes or the flower in her hair.

Lumen darkened and nodded. All of them remembered all too well what had happened when the Ark opened. “Shouldn’t be as bad as that, ma’am,” he said with a reassuring pat to her arm. “And it’ll go much better now that yer up and about. Ya can go with them and make sure of it.”

“That I can,” the captain agreed. Her long strides slowed. There were people in the room at the end of the corridor. Familiar people. “Lumen,” she asked slowly, “is there something you forgot to tell me?”

The First Mate laughed, his glow as bright as a sunset. “Ah right. Ya got visitors,” he said, then caught her arm again. “Hold on. Got somethin’ for ya.”

She stopped and obediently lowered her head as he stretched to reach her. Something whispered against her hair and she reached up, puzzled, to feel silk under her fingertips.

“It’s from Eldie,” Lumen said as he stepped back and tucked his hands into his vest pockets. “Ya don’t quite look yerself without it.”

She couldn’t resist checking this time, and smiled as she saw a simple, beautiful silk flower tucked in above her left ear. “It’s perfect. Thank you. And thank her for me.”

Lumen flicked her a salute. “Sure thing. Now ya best get in there. They’ve been waitin’.”

Her entrance was greeted by a happy “Sis!” from one of her guests, a young male Apex with hair even darker than hers and warm amber eyes. The other guest, only slightly shorter than him and as effortlessly elegant as ever in her green jacket and crimson scarf, inclined her head and offered a slight smile.

“Welcome back, Nyota Saimiri.”

 

“It is good to be back.” Nyota’s smile was as warm as Lumen’s glow as she saluted Lana, rebel style. Tarvei echoed the gesture, but Lana just shook her head and pulled both of them into a deep hug.

“None of that,” she said over Nyota’s startled gasp. “You and I don’t need to waste time on formality anymore.”

Nyota’s smile broadened and she buried her face in Lana’s scarf so they couldn’t see the happy tears that started as she caught the scent of steel and summer rain again. She hadn’t known how much she missed it until now. Her chest felt so full that it  _ached_. And she could catch a hint of her brother as well, a whiff of fish and penguin, heavy wood, and the clinical sterile tone of a Miniknog ship, all but overpowered by the scent of oranges. Oranges, like the ones their mother grew in the hall.

Her  _brother_. The idea alone still floored her. She had known for years that he was out there; she found his name in the Miniknog database when she was barely out of her teens. But her old family had been nothing but peripheral for so long. Saimiri had been just a word. Family was something that happened to other people. To think they would actually meet—that she would actually  _see_  him. Her family. Her  _brother._

Nyota pulled back as Lana’s strong arms loosened their grip and caught Tarvei’s eye. He grinned at her. She wondered if he had been thinking along the same lines.

She could ask later. “So,” she said, stepping over to the table that occupied the middle of the room, “what is your situation?”

Lana followed her, taking her place at the other side of the table. “We still hold the advantage after claiming the Stronghold and your defeat of Big Ape.” Her hands deftly arranged a series of tokens across the map: blue for Miniknog, brown and banded for the different rebel cells. “I ordered us to slow the advance and consolidate where we can for now. It was only a matter of time before we became as overextended as the Miniknog were.”

Nyota nodded slowly, examining the markers. “That would have proved as deadly to the rebellion as anything,” she murmured.

“Indeed.” Lana stepped over to stand next to Nyota and Tarvei. “Our enemies were already massing for a counterattack. Arkadis’s camp is currently harassing their weak points along the outer rim in his system. They can slow the inevitable, even cripple it. We have Vei here to thank for that warning, and crucial information on where to strike.”

Nyota looked up and smiled proudly at Tarvei. “Do you? Well done!”

Tarvei grinned and ran his fingers through his short ponytail. “I mean, I already have a good cover. They have me working as a merchant’s assistant near that system. It wasn’t hard to figure out where the orders were going, if you have a nice lockpick and quiet feet.”

Lana echoed Nyota’s proud smile. “Your little brother is quite the spy.”

“It runs in the family.” Nyota had to reach up to pat his shoulder, drawing a laugh out of her as she marveled again at how tall her ‘little’ brother was beside her. “I’m glad to see at least one of us has put it to use for the right side.”

The pause following that statement stretched just a heartbeat too long, enough that Nyota knew they had both caught the bitterness that she had so carefully kept out of her tone. She leaned over the map and picked up a token, inspecting it, as if that might distract from it all. “And how has Esther been?” she offered. They deserved better than ending on her past mistakes. “I understand you have been helping her with something, Lana?”

She wasn’t quite sure when she had begun using the rebel commander’s first name, but it felt too good to stop. Like sugar dust on her tongue.

Nyota blinked as she caught her own thought and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.  _How_ maudlin.  _Stars above, I will_ never  _tell Lana that._

Lana, luckily, either did not notice or gave no sign of it if she did. “Yes. She had a request. The humans that survived Earth have begun setting refugee camps wherever they can. …humans are rarely accustomed to life off their homeworld. Wherever there is a rebellion camp nearby, we have been helping them.”

Nyota hoped that the surprise she couldn’t hide in her face wasn’t insulting. “That is kind of you.”

Lana kept her gaze fixed on the map, turning another token over in her hands. A human-faced token. Her voice was soft. “All of us know what it is like to lose our home.”

Nyota felt Tarvei’s arm around her shoulders and knew that the pain had showed on her face. She was too grateful for him to care that she had let her mask slip.

“I should go see Esther,” she said eventually, holding out the token she had picked up to return it. “It’s been months.”

“Since you spoke to her?” Lana asked, a hint of reproach creeping into her voice.

Nyota snorted. “I am not  _that_ hopeless. She calls often. But I have not seen her since… then. It may reassure her to see me slightly better than my worst.”

“Good.” Lana’s hand closed around Nyota’s briefly before pulling away and taking the token with it. “Send her my regards. …Nyota?”

“Yes?”

Lana hesitated, then shook her head and smiled. “We’ll meet again soon.”

A promise.


	2. Paranoia/Return to the Ark

The Outpost was livelier than she remembered. Nyota stepped out of the teleporter and tucked herself out of the way to watch the relative bustle. A few humans laughed and joked with an excited but nervous floran, trading outfits and advice. A fuchsia-furred apex tinkered away at an open access panel. Two avians haggled with a quartet of penguin mercenaries and a silent glitch. Elliott’s voice drifted down from the second floor; it sounded like he was arguing with a hylotl about humor, of all things. A slight lump formed in Nyota’s throat at the same time that a smile tugged at her lips. It was almost like the Protectorate.

But the expanse of stars yawned overhead, and Nyota remembered why she came. She turned and walked away from the bright lively world with more than a little relief. After her long recovery between her quiet ship and house, it was almost too much.

Something caught her focus as she stepped out of the main building, a prickling along the back of her neck that made her fur rise. Nyota pressed herself flat against the wall. Nothing happened. No hole blown in the ground where she had been. But that meant nothing.

Her eyes flicked side to side, searching for any sign of danger, and she spotted Penguin Pete working at his shop just past Penguin Bay. He didn’t say anything, but she caught the faint shift and knew he had seen her. Relief flickered through her as she saw him pick up a tool, set it down, and go for a distinctive wrench with green tape around the grip. A signal. She had seen him perform this service before, for the more infamous penguin mercenaries who just wanted to enjoy their drink in the Beakeasy below.

Nyota tilted her chin up a fraction and Pete responded, moving as if to work on a scarlet hoverbike beside him and into a position that offered a perfect view of the balcony above her. After a few moments, a penguin waddled over with practiced nonchalance. “Is the filter cleaned right, Boss?” they asked.

“Yeah. Y’did a good job, Biggy,” Pete said, turning back to his usual work. “There’s nothing there.”

Clean. Nothing there. Nyota sighed in relief, checked the reflection in the Penguin Bay anchor to make sure there really was nothing up there, and walked over to Pete’s. She couldn’t quite find her voice to thank him, but he understood.

“Don’t mention it,” he said with a curt nod. “I get how it is. Anyway, the boys here like you. Did them a good turn with that Dreadwing business, didn’t you? And penguins remember.” He snorted and slapped his thigh. “They’d have my other knee if I let anythin’ hurt you on my watch.”

“I still appreciate it,” Nyota replied, finding the words at last. “Though the way you say that…”

Pete laughed. “Makes it sound like this lot took the first, doesn’t it? Don’t worry about it, the only ones this lot’s a danger to are themselves. AGGY! DON’T TOUCH THAT WELDER! …as I was saying—you alright, lass?”

“I’m fine.” Nyota willed her fur to lie flat. “I would advise warning any apex before you suddenly start shouting like that.”

“What—oh.” He saw her hand move slowly off the hilt of her dagger. “Right. Well, carry on, then. Unless it’s me yer seeing?”

“Maybe later. I came on business.” She couldn’t help a thoughtful, nostalgic glance at the hoverbike. “But perhaps we can catch up when I come back this way.”

Penguin Pete followed her gaze and grinned, rubbing the seat fondly. “You do that and I’ll give you a discount.”

Nyota started to leave, but something caught her steps before they started. “Pete?” she asked. “Has anyone new settled into the second story?”

“Anyone new?” The mechanic frowned, rubbing his beard. “Not that I- No, wait, there’s one.”

Nyota leaned forward slightly as his voice dropped and his expression knotted into a frown.

“There’s this strange guy that showed up a little while back… A few weeks, maybe. Doesn’t say much when you talk to them. A few of the boys tried, see. All they got told was they’re ‘not yet ready’ or something like that.”

“Ready for what?” She felt the old curiosity bubbling in her and didn’t even try to quash it down. She knew it wouldn’t work this time. She knew they were up there. She had  _felt_ them. She had to know why.

“Hell if I know,” Pete said, oblivious to Nyota’s thoughts. “…damn it. Excuse me…”

“Stay well,” Nyota said with a nod, her focus returning to the moment as Pete stumped off to holler at two of the penguins. She slipped away quietly, past the broken down mechs and half-repaired spacecraft.

Her steps slowed as meteorite and metal turned into smooth-cut stone. Warm gold light shone down from the ancient monoliths and she closed her eyes. If she held her breath, she could almost pretend that was Sol’s light on her face. That she was standing on Earth. But she had to breathe again all too soon. The dusty recycled meteorite air chased away the memory of that last summer breeze and the echoes of loved voices. Loss rumbled in her chest, but she just sighed, pressed it down with long-practiced patience, and started up the steps that led into the Ark.

-

Nyota’s footsteps slowed and faltered as she reached the edge of the dais before the stairs leading down to the Ark gate. She could barely see the steps under the cold starlight, but she didn’t need to see them, not when she was already following them in her mind’s eye. The last time she had come here—

_Light. Flares of light. Flashing neurons, muscle thick under her feet. Nox’s orange-lit sword. Bone. White bone. A thick reek, the smell of decay, eyes burning with the acrid fumes. Yellow eye staring as it wept burning tears and the red, red, red flesh pulsing, writhing, seething—_

“Captain Nyota?”

Nyota gasped as her earpiece chimed. “SAIL?” Her hand shook as she touched the cool plastic. “What is it?”

“Your heartrate is highly irregular. Are you injured?”

The apex frowned. There was no way its sensors were strong enough to pick up that detail. Then she remembered the sensor clipped under her collar. Recovery had gone smoothly enough, but after how that bone spar had struck her… She and Lumen both agreed it was best to keep a watch on matters, either way.

“No, I am fine,” she replied, and willed her pulse to calm down. In hindsight, a device that broadcast her emotional weakness was a liability.

“As you say, ma’am.” It should not have been possible for the AI to display emotion in its voice, but Nyota would have sworn she heard doubt, or even disapproval.

_I am projecting_ , she told herself, and started down the steps.

 -

The lowest reach of the Ark was cold and silent. The Baron’s throne sat coated in a fine layer of dust; he had left a note on it, something about a cave, treasure, and grievous dangers. It sounded like he was enjoying himself. Nuru was also absent. It was nearly time for another Hunt, Nyota recalled. No doubt she had a lot to prepare for. There was no sign of Koichi or Lana either, but Nyota knew Lana at least was hard at work, coordinating the rebellion. Koichi was probably in the Library again. Only Tonauac was still in his usual place, book open on his lap and head nodding in time to little cooing snores. Nyota smiled fondly and crept past.

Sonny was just finishing one last rubbing along the side of the gate when she felt something familiar coming close. It was someone she hadn’t expected, but she knew it was right; the energy reading was so much  _stronger_ near the Ark.

“Hey, watch out!” Arjun called as she jumped down from the arched gate.

“I’m fine, Grandpa!” she whistled back, bright and sparking. “I know what I’m doin’!”

He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like “like hell you do,” but he said it fondly and ruffled her corona as she passed.

“Heya Captain!” she called, and saw the  _flinch_.

It was fast and faint. Anyone who relied on eyes instead of a brand might’ve missed it, and Sonny almost did. But she couldn’t miss what she read from her captain as the apex got closer. Nyota was  _scared_. The realization that anything could frighten  _their Nyota_  stopped Sonny in her tracks.

Nyota stopped too, and tried a smile. “Is something wrong, Sonny?”

Sonny forced a chiming laugh. She had heard Lumen do it often enough to know how, and why it was needed. “Nah, just didn’t want to slip on the tiles again, ma’am,” she lied cheerfully. “You know me, clumsiest nova this side of the Kuiper belt, even with my boots.”

That got a real chuckle from her captain, and Sonny glowed warmer: mission accomplished. “It’s not that bad,” Nyota said, catching up to her. “But I am glad to see you learning to slow down. We would all be very unhappy if you were hurt.”

“That we would,” Arjun confirmed. He looked at Nyota with a respectful nod. “Glad to see you up and about. Here to see Esther?”

Nyota nodded. “Yes, I thought she might prefer me in person for once. Video calls do get tiring.”

The old man snorted, amused. “They might. She’s around this way. Hope you’re ready to be buried in mint humbugs.”

“Oh dear. Has she been saving them all this time?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“…I will take the warning under advisement. My fur will smell like mint for  _weeks_ ,” Nyota added in a grumbling mutter.

“Welcome to Esther,” Arjun said with a rare, genuine smile. Sonny could feel the affection and pride from him and it made her glow even brighter.

But the glow faded as they neared the Ark and she caught the chill of fear from Nyota again as the apex stopped to look up at the stone gate, then down at the cold tile. It was too easy to imagine her there again, just like Lumen had described, just lying there on the cold stone… 

Sonny slid a little closer to her and reached up to put a hand on Nyota’s arm, same as Nyota did for her when she was scared. “It’s fine, Captain,” she hummed. “You took it down for good. It’s long gone, and it ain’t comin’ back.”

“I know,” Nyota whispered. “But I’m only half sure it didn’t take me too.”


	3. Words Left Unsaid / Reassurance

“Now what are you talkin’ about?” Sonny tilted her head with a low fizzy crackle. “I mean, yeah… it did take you for a little while. But you’re here right now. You’re standin’ with me.”  
  
“I know.” Nyota tried a smile again. It was a little more successful this time. “It’s just… hard to explain.”  
  
Sonny’s sparkling plasma calmed to a slow, soothing roil. She stepped closer and, to Nyota’s surprise, wrapped her arms around the apex’s torso, leaning her head on Nyota’s chest. “Feels like you still, in there. I ain’t too bright sometimes, let my brand run off without its burn, but I know what I read.”  
  
Nyota stood frozen for a moment, then lowered her arms around Sonny’s shoulders, holding her close. It felt so good to hold someone. She’d almost forgotten. But still, that disconnect… “What else do you feel, Sonny?” she asked.  
  
Arjun frowned. “What do you mean, Nyota?”  
  
“Trust me. Listen closer.”  
  
“What else?” Sonny echoed. “That don’t make sen–oh. Wait a moment…”  
  
Nyota nodded, let go, and sat down on the Ark steps. “So I did not imagine it.”  
  
Arjun frowned and crouched beside her with only a little difficulty. “Imagine what? Do you need Lumen?”  
  
The apex waved him off. “No, it isn’t physical health. …tell us what you felt, Sonny.”  
  
Sonny’s light and voice wavered as she sat on the steps and leaned against Nyota, like she was trying to reassure herself that Nyota was there, was solid. “Like a white glow inside ya. It felt… I dunno. Like a white flame. And I felt you in there ‘round the edges… But that ain’t how it’s s’posed to be, is it? You ain’t supposed to be at the edges. Felt like it was almost pushin’ ya out.”  
  
Nyota was silent another moment, then nodded a few times, slowly. “That is about accurate.”  
  
“When did this start, Captain?” Arjun rarely used her title, but it felt wrong to call her anything else right now. This didn’t feel like their familiar Nyota talking.  
  
Nyota looked up at the statue of the Cultivator overhead. “I think you can guess,” she said quietly. “When I died.”  
  
Nyota stroked Sonny’s corona as the Novakid trembled, reveling in the warmth and odd glassy softness. She had never noticed how sharp the world could be, before. Perhaps it hadn’t been. Or perhaps she had to leave it to realize just how much she could have lost.  
  
Arjun’s concerned frown deepened. “First time I’ve heard you mention that, ma’am.”  
  
Nyota looked back down at him and Sonny, her distant eyes refocusing on their faces. “I don’t think people want to hear how their captain was impaled,” she said with an almost eerie lightness. “…I listened to all of Lumen’s logs, you know. I know how much it hurt all of you. I didn’t want to bring it up… and I couldn’t find the words.”  
  
“You found them now.”  
  
Perhaps the unintended sharpness in Arjun’s words cut her, or the memories that this place brought back stole the words again. Nyota’s face closed up, all the wonder and distance slamming into a blank wall, and she stood up. “Yes. I did. You can follow if you like. I shouldn’t keep Esther waiting much longer.”  
  
Sonny got up as Nyota turned and strode off. The Novakid looked up at Arjun with an anxious hum. “Think you said the wrong thing, partner.”  
  
Arjun folded his arms. “She’s always like that. More secrets than a Miniknog logbook. …I guess that’s fitting,” he grumbled.  
  
Sonny’s color darkened with a warning hum. “Don’t let her catch you sayin’ that.”  
  
-  
  
Nyota could hear them talking behind her, but she willed herself not to listen. She didn’t need more distractions. Esther deserved at least a genuine smile.  
  
Esther had one waiting for her as soon as she spotted the apex coming up the stairs. “Nyota! Or should it be Captain Saimiri?”  
  
Enough of the bitterness faded to let Nyota’s lips curl into a gentle smile. “Nyota as ever, Esther. It’s been far too long.”  
  
The old woman chuckled. “It most certainly has. Come here, let’s get a look at you. Are you taller than I remember?”  
  
“Healthier, perhaps,” Nyota conceded. “But I’ve been full-grown for years. …ah, here’s the trouble. You have your chair set at low.” She indicated the switch, which won her an amused laugh.  
  
“Oh, so I have. I was studying the base of the Ark and completely forgot.”  
  
“The Ark?” Nyota looked up at the huge structure, but she had to look away again almost instantly. Stars, endless stars–a vast hand curving down–Enough. Focus.  
  
“Yes.” Esther followed her gaze, oblivious to the distress it caused her friend. “It has been inactive for months now, but it might still have secrets for us. But I can tell you all about that later. Sit down, dear, and have a peppermint humbug. I want to hear all about how you’ve been. I understand you’ve been getting along quite well with that charming Lana?”  
  
Nyota shot Esther a dirty look, candy wrapper crinkling sharply in her grip. “Tarvei told you, didn’t he? Damn that boy.”  
  
Esther chuckled again and her wrinkled face folded into a conspiratorial smile. “He might have. You did just confirm it yourself. Go on, now. I was young once, too, you know. Tell me all about her, and how you’ve been these past few months. I’ve missed you.”  
  
Nyota sighed, shook her head, and smiled. “If you insist. But you owe me the same when I’m done.”

-

“I am glad to hear that you have been taking it easy,” Esther said as Nyota finished what little she had to share. “I think this is the first time I’ve known you to truly rest since we met.”  
  
“It was, more or less,” Nyota admitted. “Lumen told me I would have to actually allow myself to recover for as long as possible this time, or… Well.”  
  
“Well what?” Esther tilted her head. “Don’t leave an old woman hanging.”  
  
“Just Lumen making sure I actually listened to the medic,” Nyota insisted gently. Esther did not need to know how badly the search for the relics, the battles to claim them, had damaged Nyota’s body. She didn’t need that guilt. “Now, you owe me an explanation of how things have gone here?” she prompted.  
  
“Ah, yes! I swear I would forget my own head if it wasn’t screwed on. Your crewmates have been quite the help with this project,” Esther said, clapping her hands together with a conspiratorial smile. “Tell me, dear, have you seen those massive ancient gates that occupy asteroids in the farthest orbital in many star systems?”  
  
Nyota nodded. “I haven’t been to one yet, but SAIL reported one in the Muhlifain Morass system. Did you discover what made them?”  
  
“Not yet, I’m afraid, but I have a theory. They are of a very similar composition to our Ark here,” Esther explained. She moved her chair over to pat the carved stones fondly. She didn’t notice Nyota suppressing a shudder. “I think they must have been built by the same culture, perhaps even around the same era.”  
  
Interest managed to bury the memories, at least briefly. “Is that so? Then… do you think there are ways to open the others?” Nyota asked. Then the weight of her question hit.  
  
“There might be! Think of the—my stars, dear, are you alright? You’ve gone as grey as the stones! Sit down, please. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Esther’s face crinkled in grandmotherly concern.  
  
“I’m… fine,” Nyota tried to lie, but the words came out hollow even as she muted her earpiece so Esther wouldn’t hear SAIL inquiring about her abnormal heart rate again. She shook her head and sat at the base of the Ark, back to the silent, still gate so she wouldn’t have to see those carvings, remember what had been on the other side.  
  
“Was the visit too much?” Esther asked quietly. She lowered her chair until it thunked quietly down onto the stone tiles and she could look Nyota in the eye. “This was your first excursion in a while. I understand if—”  
  
“No.”  
  
Esther fell silent. Nyota had never cut her off before.  
  
Nyota just shook her head again and turned her gaze toward the massive statue of the Cultivator that loomed over the whole Ark. She couldn’t look at the other one, not without  _remembering_. “What do you think might be behind those gates, Esther?” she asked softly. “If they were built by the same people who shaped the Ark, what…  _horrors_  do you think they imprison?”  
  
Esther’s mouth dropped open. She had clearly not thought of that, and guilt flickered in her face as she caught Nyota’s soft, resigned sigh. “I am so sorry, dear. I didn’t think to… You do not need to fear them, Nyota,” she said quietly, moving close enough to put a weathered hand on Nyota’s wrist.  
  
“Explain. Please.” Nyota tried to focus on the pressure of Esther’s hand. It was a small warm anchor against the cold stone around her.  
  
“I have seen no mention of  _anything_  like the Ruin in any of the records I have found,” Esther said. She ran her fingers through Nyota’s wrist fur and the apex pressed subconsciously into her hand. “Indeed, many of them speak of it being utterly unique, nothing like it before or since. We can count our blessings for that… I asked your Arjun to bring me records of the words on one of those ancient gates just last week.”  
  
“So that is where he went…” Nyota murmured.  
  
“Yes indeed. Here. I have the translation here.”  
  
Esther opened a screen in her wheelchair’s arm and flicked through a few windows before tapping it twice. A holographic model of one of the gates loomed up in front of her, no bigger than her head. Another tap zoomed in on the arch itself, on the carvings. “These words mean ‘shelter,’ you see. That there is the mark for life. It’s uncannily similar to the Alpaca rune, actually,” Esther explained as the translation appeared in a bright overlay.  
  
Nyota smiled, grateful. Esther had remembered her trouble with unfamiliar lettering. But she had to be sure. “Nothing like what is written here?”  
  
“No. Nothing like it.” Esther smiled and patted Nyota’s hand.  
  
Nyota closed her fingers gently around Esther’s and focused on the wrinkles and weight and roughness that nothing could quite erase, proof of a life spent searching the stones and stars for answers. She could trust that proof. That experience. “…thank you, Esther.”  
  
“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do.” A wave of her hand dismissed the hologram as she turned to meet Nyota’s dark eyes. “I think these gateways might have been intended as refuges against the Ruin, in case the Cultivator failed. A vast stretch, I know… but there might be clearer answers inside.”  
  
“How do you get in?” The fear had faded, and was leaving a rising curiosity again.  
  
Esther sighed and shook her head sadly. “I don’t know. There is mention of a key, but that is all I found…”  
  
Nyota stood up. “I can keep an ear open,” she offered. “We need more resources anyway. I might find something.”  
  
“You would do that for me? Thank you, dear!”  
  
The old woman’s smile brought a matching smile to Nyota’s face. “This is the least  _I_  can do,” she echoed, and crouched to take Esther’s hand in both of hers. “I’m always happy to help you.”


	4. Planning Ahead/Patchwork

Arjun and Sonny had already left by the time Nyota walked back down the Ark stairs. It didn’t surprise her much, but a small corner inside her ached a little with loneliness. She would have liked their company. She had finally grown used to people again, like she had been in the Protectorate; their absence rang as keenly now as it had during her first night after Earth.

That thought held her as she climbed the dark stairs, typed in the code for home, and stepped into the teleporter. Instead of heading straight for the cockpit, she paused by her locker and checked the contents. Old pistols, excess preserved food from the garden on Mimosa Strand I, shields that no one wanted, assorted other odds and ends that she and the crew had found while searching for the relics or restocking on various planets.

“We have plenty of surplus,” she mused aloud. “I wonder…”

They still needed supplies: medical equipment, raw materials for Namina to forge with and for Arjun to repair the ship, seasonings that Nyota couldn’t grow herself. The little Outpost near the Ark didn’t often have anything good, and she had gotten used to just searching for traveling merchants for whatever she couldn’t pick up. But surely it was not the only commerce-oriented location within reach of their FTL drive. She could always buy what they needed instead of scavenging for it.

-

Lumen was hard at work in the medbay when he heard the door open and the chimes above it clang merrily in the sudden draft. No sudden discordant jangle, which means his guest was either attentive or short enough to avoid walking into them. That ruled out Namina. No sound of footsteps either. Couldn’t be Oldarva’s whispery shuffle, Hadley’s bold strides, or Arjun’s heavy boots. He picked up the vial of liquid he’d been distilling, sloshed the contents around, and registered only his pale amber glow and the cold ceiling lights reflected on the glass. That left—

“Howdy, Captain,” he hummed as she stepped up beside him.

Nyota smiled. “You never will tell me how you do that, will you?”

The novakid chuckled and looked up at her.  “I’ll tell ya if ya guess wrong,” he teased. “So what brings ya here? Leg botherin’ ya again? All that jam finally catchin’ up to yer teeth?”

She shook her head, amused, and leaned against the wall to face him. “Nothing of the sort this time. I need Lumen the Wanderer’s help, or perhaps Lumen the Bartender. I want to sell our surplus goods to help resupply this time. Do you know any good cities we can reach?”

The question caught Lumen off guard and he hummed deep and soft. “Been talkin’ to Sonny, I take it,” he said slowly. “She’s the only one who knows them tales and spreads them. Fern-fangs and Eldie know better. But if it’s Wanderer ya want, ya got him for a lil’ while.”

Nyota watched him in patient silence as he ran a hand through his corona, thinking. After a minute, he sighed, a long rushing hiss like escaping steam, and said, “Patchwork might be yer best bet of it.”

“Patchwork?” The apex tilted her head, confused.

“Yep, Patchwork. Smallish, for a city, but it’s a trade hub, so if anywhere has what ya need, it’s Patchwork.” He hummed in amused appreciation as a few old memories bubbled up. “Thrivin’ underground too, if ya know where to look.”

“I take it you do?”

Lumen chuckled at her tone. “That’s right. But it ain’t too bad. Just mind ya don’t cross the local mob bosses and it’ll be fine.”

There was a long silence. “Mob bosses.” Nyota’s tone was entirely flat.

“Yep. It ain’t bad,” Lumen said, his words entirely at odds with the information. “The city’s got its corruption same as any other, but they got strong rules. Don’t involve civilians. As foreign folk, we count. It’ll be safer than scroungin’ random worlds, that’s for sure,” he added with an encouraging hum.

“I see… I will have to take it under advisement, then,” his captain said.

“It’s a darn good advice, now that I think about it.” Lumen brushed a long trailing piece of corona away from his brand and started measuring out for another batch of medicine. “Ain’t got any big Miniknog presence. I’m sure of that.”

_That_ got her attention. “You are absolutely certain?”

Lumen made a ‘cross-my-heart’ gesture like he’d seen humans do back on Mars. “Sure as the stars do shine. The folks in charge wouldn’t put up with them.”

“That… may change things,” Nyota said slowly. “It has been a while since Oldarva felt safe enough for shore leave. When you’re done here, will you find her and meet me in the cockpit to discuss the details?”

“Sure thing, Captain.” Lumen saluted, then scribbled the coordinates down on a notecard and passed it to her. “That’s so I don’t forget. SAIL should be able to get us there in half a jiff.”

“By jiff you mean hour, I assume,” the apex said drily. “Fast enough by FTL standards, at least. Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime, ma’am.” Lumen turned back to his bubbling concoction. “…Now, ya might want to leave right quick. This is gonna stink to high heaven.”

-

The sheer diversity of people took Nyota’s breath away as she stepped out of the teleportation booth. Lumen had warned her, of course.  _It’s called Patchwork ‘cause it is one, see? All sorts of folks stitched right in together._

But hearing and experiencing were two different things entirely. The vast majority of the crowd was hylotl, all comfortably at ease in the seaside tele-port. There were quite a number of floran around too, many of them hawking snacks and souvenirs for tourists. A handful of avians and glitch wandered around, some clearly gawking and others intent on their business. Nyota even spotted a rather pretty purple novakid talking to a massively tall, similarly-colored apex. And here and there, scattered in the crowd—

“Humans,” Nyota murmured. Not the tired, frightened refugees she and her crew had met on the planet where they recruited Arrowmail, months ago, but laughing, talking, normal, thriving humans, like she hadn’t seen since—since Earth.

“It’s so busy,” Oldarva whispered, staring wide-eyed around them and snapping Nyota out of her daze. “I’ve never seen so many people in one place before.”

“It was even busier back h—Back on Earth,” Nyota said.  _Home_ caught in her throat. “Stay close to me and Lumen. I don’t want you getting lost.”

“That would be very easy here,” Oldarva agreed. They could both see the city sprawled out below the port: a wide dock off to their right and glass-roofed buildings below the water, skyscrapers and broad, orderly streets to the left. She hesitated. “Ah… Where  _is_ Lumen?”

“Right here, don’t ya fret.” The novakid hurried over, boots making surprisingly little noise on the metal walkway, even considering the bustle of the crowd to muffle them.

Nyota accepted one of the colored cards he offered her. Hers was red, like Oldarva’s. Lumen’s was a bright yellow, barely visible before he tucked it away in his vest pocket. “What is this?”

Lumen tapped the writing on the face of the card. “It’s a visitor’s pass. Marks ya as safe from any of the trouble I mentioned. Mine’s yellow ‘cause this ain’t my first time here. Sure, it’s been a few decades, but they keep good records here. I’d have a blue one if I was a regular.”

Nyota turned her card over. “Certainly the nuanced system they have,” she said, studying it. She had to look away from the cramped Hylotl lettering after a moment. It made her head spin; she recognized what little she managed to glimpse as the words for ‘guest’ and ‘temporary’. “No further identification necessary?”

“None but what ya bring anyhow,” Lumen hummed, indicating her Matter Manipulator, or rather, where she had hidden it. Nyota wasn’t willing to openly declare her status as a member of the Protectorate on an unfamiliar planet, not where her affiliation might bring trouble to those accompanying her.

“So little?” Oldarva’s eyes widened at the idea.

“Few cities are even remotely as controlled as our hometowns,” Nyota told her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s… alarming, I admit, but you get used to it.”

“That’s reassuring…” Eldie was clearly not reassured.

Nyota chuckled and patted her shoulder again. “It will be fine. Let’s go.”

-

It really did feel like Earth.

That was the first and strongest thought in Nyota’s head as she and her crewmates entered the crowded streets. The tall buildings reminded her so much of the area around the Protectorate, with glass skywalks stretching between them to give the occupants a safe alternative to crossing the street. An old library sent a deep pang of loss through her chest. Even though this one was sandwiched between two high-rises instead of on a row with other lower, cozy buildings, it reminded her—

“Somethin’ up, Captain?”

Nyota blinked and glanced over at Lumen. He wasn’t where she remembered. He and Oldarva were a few steps ahead, watching her quizzically. “Ya stopped dead in yer tracks. That ain’t like ya,” Lumen explained almost apologetically.

“It’s nothing—” Nyota started to say, then glared at both of them as Lumen passed Oldarva a few pixels. The novakid flickered in the equivalent of a cheery wink.

“Just settlin’ a bet. Carry on, ma’am.”

“…as I was saying,” Nyota continued, tone sharp, “it is nothing of importance. This library just… reminds me of somewhere I knew on Earth.”

Lumen and Oldarva shared another quick glance, a much deeper one. “How so?” Eldie asked.

Nyota looked up at the sign. “My friend Marcy, her family owned and operated a library much like this one once. I spent quite a bit of my first year working for them. …well, almost living in the shelves at first, to escape the summer heat. Marcy’s father offered me employment when he realized I didn’t have a job.”

Lumen looked between Oldarva’s confusion and the fond smile that gently creased Nyota’s face. “Ain’t no harm in stoppin’ in to look,” he said slowly. When Nyota turned toward him, frowning, he warmed and brightened in his own smile. “We ain’t on a tight schedule anymore. No universe needs savin’. Go on.”


	5. Marcy/Reunion

It would have been April, back home.

Marcy was still having a hard time getting used to that. It didn’t matter too much in the shops. Her parents still used the old twelve-month system. But she tended to get odd looks (or worse, sympathetic ones) when she slipped up outside or in front of visitors. They used three months here, more like seasons than anything.

It didn’t feel too different, at least. Hylotl architecture and aesthetic had a lot in common with her mom’s side of the family, and everyone spoke Common really well, even though Marcy didn’t need it. She’d taken enough years of Hylotl language classes to manage, and she’d even started picking up Floran from this one grey-flowered floran that stopped by at least once a week. They still laughed sometimes and corrected her when she tried some of the raspier words, and there was only so much she could do about the pheromones side, but she wasn’t half bad for a human. Dad teased her about thinking he’d heard two floran in the back of the library, chatting away.

They’d even managed to keep the library. They had made digital copies of all the books just a few years ago, and Mom had the presence of mind to grab it when they ran. Dad was still pretty sure that’s the only reason the Patchwork government let them in without any trouble at all. Hylotl placed the preservation of knowledge above all else, and this knowledge came with three ready-made curators who were happy to share it.

So here they were with a cozy little shop converted into something that might not have looked out of place as a café, e-readers on little wooden shelves for in-house use and big comfy armchairs provided for guest convenience. They even had a few real books again, courtesy of a deal with a little publisher down the road. Marcy often got sent to pick up the latest editions; she liked stopping at the smoothie shop on the way back and perusing their contents. The little old hylotl who ran the place liked asking what they were about. Then there was that moment of pride when she slid each book into its new home on the shelf. It felt so good to actually be able to lend out books again.

But some days Marcy just couldn’t pretend everything was okay. Sometimes she saw Mom’s new limp, from where she’d got her leg caught by falling debris, or when she saw someone who looked like someone she once knew. It always hurt, remembering the friends she lost. She had made the mistake once of walking past the old Protectorate embassy, all dusted now and labeled VACANT with a number for new tenants. Even Dad’s hot cocoa couldn’t get her out of crying that time.

And then there was today, when she looked at the calendar and didn’t see April.

Dad heard the quiet sniff and set his coffee down on the counter. “The blues get you again, moonbug?” he asked, coming over to put an arm around her shoulders. “What got them this time?”

“It’s April,” Marcy mumbled, and Dad hugged her tightly, because he understood.

“Yeah, it’s been about nine months now, hasn’t it?” he mused. “Tell you what. I’ll swing by the floran market, pick up something meaty. We can have hot pot tonight.”

Marcy smiled up at him. “Thanks, Dad.”

She didn’t cry this time, even when the jingle of the chimes above the door told her that the room was empty again. It was getting a little easier, at least.  _I don’t have as much to cry about,_ she told herself, imagination shifting the room just a little, remembering sheets of cardboard, a rough back alley. Not hers, but she knew naming the owner, in this mood, would ruin her efforts.  _I really don’t. My family all made it here. We’ve got our library, and we’re not starving. That’s good._ She _never cried, and she had it way worse, when—_

The chimes jangled again, interrupting her thoughts. Maybe Dad had forgotten something. But those weren’t Dad’s footsteps, the soft tap of leather on wood floor and a gentle, steady shuffle. Marcy looked up, ready to greet the guests, and her words vanished.

Apex and novakid.

But no, they looked wrong. The novakid was a warm creamsicle orange, with a heart-shaped brand instead of a jagged star, and no feathers poking up where ears should have been. And the apex wasn’t even close, her too-pale face creased by laugh-lines under bright green eyes, and her hair short and coppery. She was pretty enough, but Marcy just sighed as hope faded again.

The novakid was holding the door for someone else and laughing at the ginger apex’s wide-eyed stare; she must have been freshly out of Miniknog territory, from the awed look she gave all the books. Or maybe all apex were like that. A little flicker of fond nostalgia poked through the disappointment.

Then the third person stepped into the room. Like some magic in the books had summoned her right out of Marcy’s thoughts. A second apex, taller, her face marked by faint scars rather than smiles. She brushed her long grey hair back away from her eyes as the air conditioning ruffled her bangs, tossing it back over her shoulders. Something tickled Marcy’s memory. She knew that gesture, the little quirk to the end of it to let the long sidelocks trail down. This apex looked older, almost too much older, but—

“Nyota…?” Marcy said it so quietly that no one should have been able to hear her even in the quiet library, not at that distance. It was a mistake, she knew. She knew better than to get her hopes up. After all this time, in all the vastness of the universe…

But the Apex looked up. And Marcy would have known those dark eyes anywhere.

“Nyota!”

 

Nyota froze, still in the doorway, oblivious to everything but that voice. She couldn’t even think. Her eyes automatically dropped to the familiar height, the wide glasses, that slow smile. The apex’s voice was barely a whisper. “Stars below us…”

Lumen hummed and tilted his head to one side, light flickering like an old lava lamp. “Captain,” he asked, “ya know this gal?”

Nyota shook her head a little, but in disbelief, not denial.

“Marcy.”

She stepped into the library, a little too stunned to smile, and Oldarva stepped out of the way to let the girl dash past and into Nyota’s waiting arms.

They stood there for a long moment, breathless, Marcy laughing in those thin high tremors that come when someone isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “I can’t believe it,” she hiccuped, taking off her glasses to wipe her eyes with one sleeve. “I can’t believe—it’s been  _nine months_  and _—_ it  _is_ you, right? I’m not…”

Nyota hugged her tighter, a low purr rumbling up through the lump forming in her throat. “We’re both dreaming. We’ll wake up and I’ll be drifting in space again and none of this will be real.”

Marcy laughed and reached up to lightly whack Nyota’s chin. “It’s absolutely you. Your outlook’s still as grey as your fur.” She stretched a little higher in an attempt to hug Nyota even harder, and gasped as Nyota picked her up.

“And you’re still tiny,” Nyota said. Her voice was more purr than anything else. She held Marcy for long enough to look her in the eyes, her expression serious and still, then pulled her first friend close and held her tight. One of her fangs cut at her lower lip as she tried not to cry. It hurt so much, her entire chest aching. But it was a good kind of hurt, almost like stretching after being still for too long. She trembled and laughed. “I’m making a scene, aren’t I?”

“It don’t matter much if ya are,” Lumen reassured her. “Looks like we’re the only folk visitin’.”

“You are,” Marcy confirmed. She buried her face in Nyota’s mane, the apex’s thick hair and low hesitant purr muffling everything else. It was just them. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this.”

For a long moment, there were no sounds but the jingle of the door swinging shut, the steady rising rumble of Nyota’s purr, and the light tap of Lumen’s boots as he stepped over to hold Eldie’s hand. His color brightened and warmed in time to the rhythm of Nyota’s purring.

Beside him, Eldie hummed in happiness, almost matching Nyota, if far quieter. “I’m glad we came to this planet,” she whispered, too soft for anyone but Lumen to hear.

“So am I,” Lumen murmured. “I wasn’t plannin’ to stay after sellin’ our load, but ya know… it’s funny how plans change. I’ve seen more’n my share of partin’s, but a reunion, well now. That ain’t a sight I’m like to get tired of for a long, long time.”

“Should we leave them be?”

Lumen watched for a few moments longer, then nodded and raised his voice to more his normal volume. “If ya’d like some time alone, Captain, Eldie’n I’ll get our business taken care of. I got my mic on and SAIL can call us anytime.”

“Nyota, did he just call you  _Captain_?” Marcy looked up, eyes wide.

Nyota gave her a slightly lopsided grin. “It’s a long story. _Stars,_ I have so much to tell you… Yes, go on ahead, Lumen. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“You’re a  _Captain—_ ” Marcy interrupted herself by bursting into laughter. “See? I told you! You were afraid you’d end up a janitor or not picked at all! So is the Protectorate still out there after all? We’d heard it—but you’re here anyway.”

Nyota sighed, then gently set Marcy down. “It’s a long story,” she repeated. “No, the Protectorate is not officially active. You are the only other survivor I have met.” She tucked a sidelock behind one hear, fidgeted with the silk flower in her hair, and pulled the lock forward again. “Is there somewhere we can talk? It does not need to be private, just… not the middle of a library. I do not want to disturb any guests, and the story is… It has been a long nine months, Marcy.”

Marcy looked up at Nyota, frowning. She was uncertain now, that much was obvious, and Nyota resisted the urge to bite her lip again. But the frown faded into a smile, even if the uncertainty itself didn’t fade. “We could head up to my room, or there’s a little smoothie shop just up the road. It’s no jam shop, not like—”

Her voice caught at the sharp memory of their favorite hangout on Earth, and Nyota put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Marcy put her hand over Nyota’s. “It’s not like what we used to get, but they taste great,” she said, rallying. “It isn’t usually busy right now and the owner’s really nice.”

“Smoothies would be lovely,” Nyota agreed. “I’ll follow your lead.”


	6. Too Much to Say / The Sound of Sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for your patience; I am continuing this weekly on Tumblr, but life has been so busy that I forget to update over here >.>;; I'll try to be better about that.

The alleys of Patchwork felt like nothing else Nyota had seen. Apex cities had few true alleys, always eerily precise in their dimensions and just the slightest bit ominous, the dark roofs of the neighboring buildings casting an eternal gloom over them no matter how bright the sky or outside lamps were. The city on Earth where she had spent the six years between her escape and graduation had open alleys, dusty and lined with brick, where no one would notice or care about a quiet apex refugee as long as she kept out of their garbage.

Patchwork was something between them without truly being either: tall and tidy, but lit by small round lamps that kept it from feeling truly cramped or dark. They wound between the buildings in a somehow precisely haphazard manner, as if their tangle had been planned from the start. Knowing hylotl dedication to artistry and organic form, it likely had, Nyota mused. She had never been in a hylotl surface city before. It felt so different from the underwater city, less polished, but more homelike.

“It would not be too difficult to be happy here,” she said aloud.

“It’s a nice place,” Marcy agreed. “There’s a couple other humans here, too. Most of them were on the escape pod with us. Do you remember the nice officer that helped you on that first Halloween?”

“How could I forget?” Just the memory of that night made Nyota shiver slightly under the warm golden sun. That had easily been one of her roughest experiences on Earth. A lone apex made for a good target in the minds of a certain flavor of thief, and this lot wanted revenge after she had beat down one of their friends for trying a similar mugging earlier that month. “There is a reason I still hate that holiday…”

Marcy put a soothing hand on her arm. “I know… The masks don’t help much either, I bet. But he made it off Earth with us. He’s okay. I think he works as a private investigator now, just down the road from here.”

Nyota let out a long breath. “That is good. I still owe him one for stepping in when he did.”

Marcy laughed. “You know he’d just brush you off. Doing his duty and all that. You’re a lot alike, like that.”

Nyota turned to look down at her. “And what does that mean?”

That got another laugh. “You’re not good at taking thanks either. Come to think of it, you two have a lot of similar mannerisms. You’re both so sharp and precise, and it’s so hard to catch you relaxing.” She toyed with her glasses chain, thoughtful. “You even walk in a similar way. Not really meandering, but you’re not much in a hurry either. It’s the kind of walk that you can keep for hours.”

Nyota frowned, curious and a little bit wary without quite knowing why. “You notice odd things, Marcy.”

“Yeah, I always have.” Marcy just shrugged. “And before you ask, the walk thing was, um… I might’ve copied it to get through my errands better? It really works though. I can get across the whole city without getting tired.”

Nyota managed a short chuckle; the wariness stole the rest of it. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” They walked in silence for a little longer before Marcy caught the rest of her train of thought. “You know,” she said slowly, “I did wonder a few times if you were law enforcement or something before you came to Earth. You were always really interested in regulations, and always so precise… I guess I can’t say interested in rules, since you did join Isobu and Muth when they snuck out to go climbing rooftops.”

The laugh was a little more forced that time. Nyota hated how fake it sounded. She wanted so much to laugh for real. Those had been some of her fondest memories. “Someone had to keep them out of even worse trouble.”

Marcy slowed a little, looking up at her. “You were always so good at the combat lessons too,” she said. “I could tell you held it back a lot after that first lesson, but you can’t really hide  _that_ much when you smash right through the dummy. There were a few folks who wondered if you’d been a bounty hunter or something, or Isobu’s vigilante partner.” She snorted, remembering. “He is really good at attracting rumors.”

Nyota’s heart ached to hear Marcy say  _is_ instead of  _was._

“You never felt like a bounty hunter to me. I don’t know how to describe it.” Marcy shook her head, setting her glasses chain jangling. “But I didn’t want to pry, because that would be rude. And the apex law enforcement… they’re bad people anyway.”

“Yes,” Nyota said softly. “They are.”

Marcy’s tense face said she was holding back a dozen questions. Nyota just shook her head and stopped walking. “Is this your smoothie shop?”

“Oh!” The questions vanished. “It is! We were talking so much I didn’t even realize how close we’d gotten.” Marcy tucked a loose lock of hair behind one ear and pushed open the door; it jingled as it disturbed some chimes hanging above. “Go on and find a seat. I’ll bring us some menus.”

Nyota nodded and ducked through the door. It had clearly not been designed with apex height in mind, but she was used to that, and her mind was elsewhere.  _I have to tell her,_ she knew.  _I can’t keep hiding. Not anymore._

They filled a few minutes with small talk after Nyota brushed through the menu and settled on a kiwi smoothie. Marcy picked peach, and the shopkeeper’s knowing smile confirmed that it was the usual choice. “I can’t resist it,” Marcy told Nyota with a sheepish grin as the old hylotl shopkeeper handed them their drinks. “She does them really well here.”

“You never judged me for getting something in banana flavor,” Nyota said, diplomatically. “I can live and let live.” Her smoothie was excellent, made with fruit instead of just juice, and the tiny seeds crunched cheerfully between her teeth.

“I guess it’s a good thing it’s you I ran into first,” Marcy laughed. “Isobu would never have let me escape a ribbing.” She hesitated. “Nyota? What’s wrong?”  She had seen the sudden stiffness. It lasted too long to be called a flinch.

Nyota sighed heavily and closed her eyes to force the tears back down. Hadn’t she cried enough? But she couldn’t keep silent anymore. “Isobu is dead, Marcy.”

“What?” Marcy’s mouth fell open and Nyota felt her heart wrench. “No, that can’t be right… I mean, both of us made it out, and he’s just as tough as you. If even I got out of there, he has to be—”

“Marcy.”

Marcy stopped.

Nyota set down her smoothie, watching the frosty green as she slowly swirled the straw through the mix. “I… have his brand,” she said, “back on my ship.”

Her friend’s silence was somehow even harder to bear than her words had been. Nyota reached up to mute her communicator earpiece. She didn’t need SAIL announcing her shuddering, aching heartbeat to the world. “I found out three weeks after Earth. He never made it off the planet.”

Marcy’s voice was small and quiet and just half a step above broken. “What happened?”

“When everything went mad… Do you remember the Occasus?”

Marcy grimaced. “I wish I didn’t. The refugees here have to fight a lot of the suspicions they caused with their xenophobia. Most of us hate purple now.” She froze slightly as the realization hit. “You’re saying they had something to do with it? With—with Isobu?”

“Yes. Their leader, Asra Nox,” Nyota confirmed, drawing the name out into a low snarl. Her fists clenched, then relaxed as she forced herself to be calm again. Her fingertip traced the pattern of the wood grain on the table, around and around. “I fought her, after the Earth… she gave me Isobu’s brand, then. He had tried to stop her, back on Earth, and… She kept it—kept him—like a trophy.”

Marcy dropped into horrified silence and Nyota reached out to take her hand, the anger fading into a soft, heavy, old grief. She was more than half surprised when Marcy didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry. It looks like we only get one impossible hope filled.”

Marcy folded her other hand over Nyota’s. “Please,” she whispered. “Tell me everything.”

So Nyota tried. She started with graduation itself, how the Ruin had burst through everything and grabbed Grand Protector Leda, how Nyota grabbed the Matter Manipulator and ran.

“I saw,” Marcy said, somber. “They televised her speech, like they do—did—every year. The camera feed cut out right before it pulled her down. So she didn’t make it…”

“I don’t know if anyone else did. I lost sight of the others as soon as the tentacles came through the walls,” Nyota told her. “There were two explosions just before it. One of them must have been…” She shook her head. “The other was the Ruin, of course.”

“The Ruin? So that thing had a  _name_?” Marcy’s hands tightened on her half-empty drink. “Pretty apt…”

“Yes. I don’t know if that’s what it was originally called, but that is what Esther named it.” Nyota tried to focus on the taste of kiwis. It helped, a little. The little jam shop they used to visit didn’t carry anything kiwi. The taste had no memories to it at all.

Marcy frowned. “Wait. Esther?”

“Ah, right. Apologies. I forget…”

“It’s alright.” Marcy patted Nyota’s hand. “It must be hard to remember it all…”

Nyota’s expression grew distant. “I barely remember any of it. Just… smoke, and chaos. And red. Everywhere, red…” She shuddered; the breath caught deep in her chest and she coughed heavy and hard as if she could drive out the catch and red together. Marcy reached up and rubbed her back until the coughing subsided.

“It’s okay,” Marcy whispered. “You can stop if you want to.”

“I wanted to stop then.” Nyota’s voice was a deep, low rasp. “When I reached the ship… It was already battered and damaged. SAIL said I had to flee while I could. I know it’s illogical. I saw no one else alive, after Leda was pulled down, and so many dead… But I wanted to… I didn’t want to flee alone. If I had stayed just a little longer, if I could have saved someone else…”

Marcy stood up and walked over to sit beside Nyota, leaning her head on the apex’s arm. “But if you had stayed, I would have lost both my friends,” she said.

Nyota shuddered, wrapped her arm around Marcy, and held her close, running her fingers through the little human’s hair. The sound in her throat was too broken to be a purr.


	7. What Followed / Nyota's World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regular update schedule? Never heard of it

The old hylotl shopkeeper brought them refills; when Marcy tried to pay, she just shook her head and whispered “ _On the house_ ,” the fluid syllables of her own language somehow comforting against the weight of what had just been said. Nyota tried to smile, and managed a clumsy but heartfelt  _Thank you_  in reply.

“It’s okay if you want to stop talking,” Marcy said quietly. She held onto Nyota as tightly as she could, as if she was afraid the apex would vanish or crumble if she let go. Perhaps she wasn’t wrong.

But Nyota shook her head. “You did ask,” she replied. She almost winced, hearing how thick and strained her voice was. “And I have more to say, if you want to hear it.”

“Of course I do.” Marcy squeezed a little tighter for a moment before leaning back to look Nyota in the eyes. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too much. You always do, I know…”

Somehow, despite everything, that made Nyota laugh. “I do. But I’ll be alright.” She picked up the new smoothie and swirled it slowly, staring at the street outside. It was still bright out, mid-morning, though few wanderers seemed interested in stopping down this particular road. A small floran child was playing with a leafy snake under the awning opposite the smoothie shop. It felt so normal, but so out of place against the memories playing through Nyota’s head.

“I don’t know how long I was out,” she started. “I fell asleep as the ship left Earth’s atmosphere. When I woke up, it was orbiting a little garden planet in the Mimosa Strand system, and there was a weasel on my chest.”

Marcy made a strange noise, pinched her nose, and set the smoothie down. “Wait. A weasel?”

“You can laugh. It  _is_  funny.” A fond smile crept through Nyota’s darkened mood. “I still have no idea how it got onto my ship, but it has grown very attached to me, so it can stay. It helped a lot, before I met my crew. It is remarkable how something so small can do so much to keep someone sane.” She paused, remembering how much she had talked to herself, and amended that to “Debatably sane.”

“Have you never had a pet?” Marcy’s eyes went wide and she started to apologize as soon as the words left her mouth; it had always been an unspoken taboo, asking about Nyota’s past.

Nyota just shook her head and put a hand on Marcy’s shoulder to stop the apologies. “You can ask now. It’s not going to offend me.”

Marcy opened her mouth like she had another question, but just closed it again, hesitated, and took another drink of her smoothie.

Nyota frowned just slightly and answered more to cover the awkwardness than anything. “No, I never had a pet, not that I remember. I moved around too much to take care of a small animal, and there was always the risk that I would not come home from work,” she explained. Perhaps a pet would have done her some good, but back then she couldn’t bear the idea of having something utterly dependent on her. It was still hard. “My parents may have owned one when I was a child, but I remember almost nothing from back then.”

She caught the concerned knit in Marcy’s brow and tried to smile it away. The expression came out thin and just a little fake. “It was more than twenty years ago. Memories fade.”

They both knew that Nyota’s didn’t.

“So what did you find on that planet?” Marcy asked to fill the silence that followed. “Was it inhabited?”

“It might have been, once,” Nyota told her, glad for the cue. The weight between them stretched heavily across her. It had not been like this since her first year on Earth. She did not want to think that all it took was a few months’ separation to lose years of closeness. “There was a mine down there, and a ruined house or two. I built a shelter in a covered bridge, since my ship wasn’t suitable for sleeping, really. The FTL drive was damaged from that jump away from Earth. I am lucky SAIL managed to get it somewhere with breathable air.”

“No kidding… But how did you get off the planet? If your ship was damaged, you couldn’t exactly fly away.”

Nyota took a deep breath. “Bear with me here,” she said. “This is where it begins to get strange. I found a gate on that planet.”

The tension vanished. Marcy leaned forward, eyes wide. “A gate? What sort of gate?”

Nyota closed her eyes, looking for a specific memory of a book she had seen once. “In your library, there was one book you were very fond of,” she began.

Marcy laughed. “That could be any of them.”

“True,” Nyota admitted, echoing Marcy’s grin. “But this one was quite old. It referenced a theory about ancient builders, and gates they had made across the universe. You had been exploring that theory as a way humans could have reached their moon before FTL travel was discovered, yes?”

“Oh! Yes, though I think that option was disproved, since there weren’t any on our moon,” Marcy said. She stopped as the realization hit. “Wait. You  _found_ one of  _those_ gates?”

“I did.” The almost childlike excitement in her friend’s voice drew a genuine smile to Nyota’s lips, and an idea widened it. “Would you like to see where it led?”

-

“Wow… is this some kind of space port?” Marcy asked as she stepped out of the teleporter and looked around, eyes wide, at the Outpost. It was quiet at this time of day, relatively speaking, with most visitors returned to their homes and those who called the Outpost home just finishing their daily tasks or trading gossip about the strangers they’d seen that day. Marcy kept close to Nyota’s elbow, watching a few people wander past. They had left a note for Marcy’s father about running errands, and Nyota put a message through SAIL to tell Lumen and Eldie where she had gone. Hopefully those would keep people from worrying about them too much.

Nyota reached down to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Not as much of a port as a refuge,” she explained. Marcy’s nervousness felt strange to her, but she knew that her own comfort was just from knowing them for so long. Marcy didn’t have that same luxury.

“A refuge? From what?”

“Anything, really.” Nyota indicated a small rookery of penguins. “They avoid rival mercenaries. There are two other apex here trying to evade the Miniknog. The first person I met was a woman who survived Earth.” She met Marcy’s surprised stare with a small smile. “It was such a comfort to know I wasn’t the only one. Her name is Susa. She was the first person I talked to afterward…”

Marcy looked up at Nyota, trying to read her face, then leaned against her arm. “How long was it?” she asked. “Between Earth and here, I mean.”

“Why do you ask?”

She pressed into Nyota’s arm a little more firmly, wrapping her arm around it and lacing her fingers through Nyota’s. “You always shut yourself away from people when you’re hurting.”

The silence between them pressed down hard on Nyota’s tongue.

Marcy’s grip slackened. “Too close?” She shook her head. “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“A week.” The weight lifted just a little. They had been close enough once that Nyota wouldn’t have hesitated to answer. She wanted that back. “The first two days were by choice. There was a mine on that planet, and a forgotten sleeping bag. But no signs of people, after that. I hadn’t realized, until I came here…” The words tried to catch, but Nyota forced her way through. “I did not know how lonely I had become.”

It felt like the rest of the Outpost stopped existing in just that moment. “You know, I don’t think you would have told me that, before,” Marcy said slowly.  “It really was a busy nine months, wasn’t it?”

Nyota felt the fur along her back press flatter, trying to make her as small as she felt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t have enough of a voice to say it louder, as loud as she wanted, as loud as she needed.

She tried to pull back, but Marcy held her tighter. “No, don’t apologize!” The sudden vehemence made Nyota stop in sheer surprise. Marcy never raised her voice, rarely put passion into her tone at all, but in this moment, she sounded as fiery as Hadley.

“Don’t apologize,” Marcy repeated. “Nyota, it’s okay. I could tell, when we met—” She stopped, closed her mouth, then shook her head and kept going. “Maybe not when we met, but as I got to know you, I could tell you had something so heavy on you. Something too big to talk about. Maybe something that hurt you—It’s okay. I never minded. You don’t have to apologize for it.”

“I do,” Nyota said. She didn’t try to pull away again, but her arm was so tense that she could barely feel Marcy’s hand. “If you knew—”

“You would still be my friend.”  _Now_ Nyota could feel Marcy against her arm. She felt the young woman trembling. “…please, Nyota. I thought I’d lost you forever. I’ve spent… I grieved for you, these past nine months. We already lost Isobu…” Damp seeped into Nyota’s sleeve, a hot knife through her knotted heart. “You don’t have to let me in, just… don’t push me away.”

Wordless, Nyota knelt and slid her arms under Marcy’s unprotesting shoulders. It took a force of will to pull her close, but Nyota had faced down the Ruin itself. She would do it again if it meant mending what felt like a hole in the world beneath their feet. “I do need to let you in at last,” she murmured. “I have kept too many secrets for too long, and you deserve better than that. Will you follow me?”

Marcy didn’t say anything, but she nodded.

Nyota let go and stood up, but kept ahold of Marcy’s hand and tried a smile. She actually succeeded. “I’m going to show you the gate that brought me here. We can talk there.”


	8. Running / Histories

“I had hoped I could distract us,” Nyota admitted, “by bringing you here.” She looked up at the gate above them. The runes around the rim somehow seemed more familiar than ever, even though she hadn’t seen it in months. “I am always avoiding my problems like that. Ignoring them, running away.”

“No you’re not,” Marcy protested. “In the Academy—”

“It was running that brought me to Earth.”

Marcy fell silent.

Nyota ran a hand over the polished stone, digging her short fingernails into the tiny cracks where each stone fit into the next. She bit her lip, hard.  _Avoiding it again. Speak, damn it._ She closed her eyes and pulled up the memory of Lana’s face, of staring down that rifle at the entrance to the Miniknog Stronghold, of Lumen and Namina’s stares burning into her back. “You were right,” she said, “when you guessed that I was law enforcement before. I was.”

The silence was deafening.

“I was an officer in the Miniknog.” Nyota resisted the urge to look back and make sure Marcy was still there. It helped, somehow, standing beside the massive gate, feeling so small in its shadow. If she had felt larger, braver, she might have found the courage to bury the words again. “I was an Agent. A spy. A soldier, rarely, with this damned leg of mine. From the day I turned seven years old until just after my twenty-second birthday, I served in full obedience to the will of Big Ape.”

“That’s a long time.” Marcy’s voice was very, very quiet.

Now Nyota turned to look back at her, and the old Miniknog part of her heart swelled with pride to see how firmly and cleverly Marcy masked her emotions now. Skill like that was hard to come by without being trained. Such potential… The part that had been Marcy’s friend throbbed at seeing a blank-faced stranger in the young woman’s place.

“So,” the Miniknog Agent asked, “are you still my friend?”

“I don’t know,” Marcy said slowly, and Nyota tilted her head in acknowledgment of a fair answer. “I guess this is why you always told me not to make promises I can’t keep, back on Earth. Why did you leave?”

Nyota looked up, past the gate, at the stars hanging heavy and distant and silent overhead. One of them had been her homeworld sun, once. “I realized there were other ways,” she said. “I grew up with the Miniknog being all that was good in the world. I learned early that they were evil, but thought they were a necessary one. Then, one day, I found that they weren’t even that.”

She paused. “You can speak, you know.” Her voice was, in that moment, the closest to what Marcy had known on Earth that it had been since they met in Patchwork. “Reproach me, call security, run for home. I won’t stop you. I don’t have the right to stop you.”

She could  _feel_ Marcy’s hesitation. “I realize I  _should_ ,” Marcy said, “but if I close the book now, I won’t know how it ended.”

Emotion, too strong to name, caught thick and heavy in Nyota’s throat and she had to fight back tears for a long moment. It didn’t quite work. “I have humans to thank for it,” she said, blinking quickly as her vision blurred around the edges. “I met one during a science summit with the USCM, before it collapsed. He mentioned the Protectorate… It took me two years to perfect an escape that wouldn’t leave me dead or in a cell in minutes. That’s when I met Isobu.”

“What? Isobu  _knew_ , and neither of you told me?”

Nyota flinched slightly at the hurt and anger in Marcy’s voice. “He didn’t know. Not for certain, at any rate. I never told him either. I think he assumed I was part of the rebellion.”

“He was way off the mark, then…”

“Yes.” The tears finally stopped trying to escape down her cheeks. “I don’t think he cared too much about the details at the time. He was venting out in a snow drift when I found him.”

“Wait—so that  _was_ true?” Marcy’s quiet anger vanished into surprise. “You did find him in a snowdrift? You two weren’t just pulling my leg?”

Laughter shrieked out of Nyota like water escaping a ruptured pipe, high and hysteric. The tears returned with a vengeance and her knees gave out, the tension supporting them gone too soon, sending her sliding down to the base of the gate, still shaking with laughter. Her lungs burned as she tried to pull in a full breath.

A small hand settled on her shoulder. “I really don’t know if I should be scared of you or scared for you right now,” Marcy told her quietly. She took Nyota’s hands and held them until Nyota subsided and started breathing calmly again.

Nyota squeezed Marcy’s fingers gently. “I could never hurt you,” she whispered. “Not intentionally. I didn’t mean to, with this. I was just… too deep in the role to let it go. I’m so sorry.”

“Nyota, be honest with me,” Marcy said. Her voice shook, just a little. “When you knew me on Earth, how much…. How much of ‘you’ was a mask?”

Nyota retained enough courage and respect, for both Marcy and herself, to not look away. “All of it,” she replied softly, hand tightening against the deep pain in her throat as Marcy’s face fell. “But none of it was a lie. It was… a mask of who I  _wanted_  to be.”

“I think—” Marcy’s voice caught a little. She shook her head and, to Nyota’s shock, smiled. “I think I can work with that. You still have a lot of story to tell me. I want to know if you ever did become her, that Nyota I knew.”

“…as you wish.” Nyota stood again, to Marcy’s concern, and held out a hand. “I’m sure you’re tired of me dragging you everywhere by now, but there’s someone you should meet.”

-

“So how did that turn out? With you and Isobu?” Marcy asked. She paused on the steps beside Nyota, watching the ancient lights in the entrance to the Ark with a look of wary wonder. “You weren’t together on Earth when I met you. …at least, not that I knew.”

“We weren’t,” Nyota confirmed. She passed Marcy an unopened bottle of water that she had picked up from a vending machine on the way over. The recycled air of the Outpost did tend to dry throats out. “It was a partnership of convenience from the start. I pulled him out of the snowdrift, and used rumors of his presence to provide the distraction I needed to escape. We caught a passing merchant ship, gained passage to Earth, and parted ways at the docks with the intent of never seeing each other again.”

Marcy downed a swallow and passed the bottle back. “That didn’t quite work out.”

Nyota’s eyes grew distant, catching the shadow of a bright glow against a blurred white field of snow, her hands aching with phantom cold and with the memory of a warm touch against them. She could barely remember the voice, calling the false name she had given then… “No. It didn’t.”

A hand did settle over hers and Nyota flinched, startled, hope and disappointment crashing into her in almost the same moment. Just Marcy’s hand. “You’re remembering him, aren’t you?” her old friend asked.

The words caught, and Nyota just shook her head. “Don’t ask me that,” she whispered. “Come on. Let’s keep going.”

“So where are we going, anyway?” Marcy hurried to keep up, and Nyota slowed down so her long strides wouldn’t take her too far out of reach. It was dark ahead, plunging down long, steep stairs, and that made Marcy nervous.

“It’s called the Ark. I came here after I reached the Outpost. It’s older than words can express,” Nyota said. Her voice was much softer here. It always felt wrong to raise it in the presence of the ancient stones. “I’m taking you to meet Esther Bright.”

“Wait—aayikes!”

Nyota flung out an arm in time to catch Marcy as her friend stopped mid-step. The stairs loomed impossibly long and hard for an instant until she dug her heels in and caught balance for them both. “Careful!” she gasped. “It’s a long way down.”

“Right, right…” Marcy clung to Nyota’s arm and kept a tight hold on her as Nyota slowly started to descend again, slow and cautious, pausing after each step to make sure neither of them slipped. After several seconds, she asked, half to distract herself, “Esther Bright, though. You’re serious?”

“Former Grand Protector and archaeological expert? Yes, I am serious,” Nyota said, and she could  _feel_ the grin light up Marcy’s face and push all the tension out. The fear was forgotten, the distance was forgotten. There was something outright hopeful there now, not enough to fill all the distance between them, but enough to give Nyota hope, too. That was something she hadn’t truly felt in a long time. It made her heart feel brighter, filled up, full enough that she wasn’t sure she was only imagining the pressure, the distance, the fade of the world around her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Oblivious, Marcy just kept smiling, the near-fall from a few moments ago now forgotten. “Esther Bright. You  _are_ pulling my leg this time, I’m sure of it. Why is she out here?”

“She can tell you the details better.” Nyota’s voice came out a bit breathless, and concern edged through Marcy’s smile. Nyota brushed it off with a shake of her head. “She’s been studying the ruins here for quite a long time. There is another gate down there, similar to the one that brought me here.”

“Where does it lead?”

Silence.

“…Nyota?”

Nyota squeezed Marcy’s hand to show she’d heard. She stayed silent for a long moment, staring off into the darkness. It took her more effort than she wanted to admit, pushing back to make enough room for herself in her own head and fighting the memories back down. “…it led to the thing that destroyed the Earth,” she said. “Esther explained it to me, when I met her just a week after Earth… This thing, the Ruin—”

“The one you mentioned before…”

“That’s right.” Nyota tried to keep her voice steady; she could hear the fear in Marcy’s. “It was sealed back there, but that… cracked over the ages, Esther said.” Nyota’s expression darkened. “I think it was deliberately broken.”

She heard Marcy’s sharp inhale and reached down. Marcy’s hand closed around hers. Now that it was finally said, there was no going back. “I have had a long time to think about this,” Nyota said softly. “The Occasus… Asra Nox nearly  _worshiped_ that thing. And she was deluding herself into thinking it was on  _her_ side, when I spoke to her that last time.”

Marcy’s confusion and concern pressed against Nyota’s fur like a heavy, broad hand. She was trembling.

Nyota stopped as she crossed the last step and turned to face her. “It’s alright,” she said softly, knowing the words were too small for what they needed to do. “It’s alright. The Ruin is gone. I killed it.”


	9. I'm Still Me / Coming Together

“ _You—_ So that’s where you’ve been, all these months?” It was Marcy’s turn for breathless and she sat on the bottom step. Nyota knelt in front of her to look her in the eye.

“Yes. Esther guided me to reach that monstrosity and destroy it.” So few words again for the weight they carried. Nyota couldn’t begin to imagine how to tell Marcy everything. “It was massive… a planet in its own right. But it’s gone now. It shattered. It’s gone.”

Strange, how trying to comfort her old friend, someone else who had seen exactly what the Ruin had done, eased the memories back away from Nyota’s mind.

“It… shattered?” Marcy giggled in a high, shaky echo of Nyota’s own hysterical laughter. “Just like Earth… That’s poetry.”

“I saw it break,” Nyota told her. She held Marcy’s hands tight, her own large palms all but engulfing the small human’s fingers. “I was there, standing in the heart of it all. It won’t ever come back.”

Marcy took several long deep breaths, just like Nyota had done to calm herself. “How did you survive?” she asked. “How did you get out of there?”

“I didn’t.” The words escaped before Nyota realized they were on her tongue, and she sank a fang into her bottom lip, internally cursing herself, as she saw the confusion and not-yet-fear return to Marcy’s face in full force. She shook her head and ran her thumbs across the back of Marcy’s hands in an old soothing gesture. Marcy turned her hands to cup Nyota’s thumbs in her palms. “I couldn’t explain it if I tried,” Nyota murmured, “but I’m still here, and I’m still me. I have to ask you to trust me on that.”

“Okay.” That’s all it took. Marcy reached up to wipe the little coil of blood off Nyota’s lip and looked into the apex’s dark eyes. “I trust you.”

She must have seen the confusion and sudden wary doubt in Nyota’s face, because she laughed and reached up to wrap her arms around Nyota’s shoulders. “You’re wondering why I can trust so easily.”

After a moment of stiff confusion, Nyota hugged her back. “I can’t deny that.”

Marcy smiled into Nyota’s shoulder. “That’s a first,” she teased, heartachingly familiar. “It’s like you said, though. You’re… you’re still you. Even if I didn’t know everything, I knew you. You didn’t become someone else… You’re my Nyota.”

A dozen protests rose in Nyota’s throat, all the masks she’d made to hide herself, but she held her breath and let them die unsaid. Dishonest, foolhardy. But longed-for. “It’s unlike you to say something so illogical,” she said.

“I know,” Marcy agreed. “It’s funny, and I can’t explain this one either. But… it’s not like I didn’t know  _something_ was there. And even if I don’t like all of what I hear, you’ve been more open with me now than I ever heard from you on Earth.”

“I’m sorry,” Nyota murmured, but Marcy stopped her with a finger over her lips.

“Shush. Don’t start that, I’m not judging you for then. You had your reasons, and you  _told_ me those reasons. I wish I’d known earlier, but, well…” She looked Nyota in the eye. “Those months were really something for you, weren’t they? We really can’t change the past. So I want to move forward.”

“Are you sure?”

Marcy snorted and tapped Nyota’s nose, making the apex echo her snort in surprise. “You never can just accept good things as they are, can you? I’m not just naïvely saying this. Okay, you were dangerous. I can’t ever deny that. But I got to see a bit farther than that, remember? I’ve watched you shelve books in Dad’s library. You coached me through my exams every year back when I could barely handle a stick. And you remember that storm that rolled through during our second year at the Academy?”

“I still dream about it sometimes,” Nyota told her. The winds had been nearly strong enough to lift even her off the ground; they had nearly sent Marcy herself flying before Nyota managed to catch her. What was Marcy getting at?

“I still remember,” Marcy said softly. “Isobu brought it up that night before graduation. …that last night we had on Earth. ‘That’s heart,’ he called it. I still remember. You were so warm and strong… You held me with the wind going nuts above us, knowing we could both drown any time, and you didn’t care what happened to you if you could keep me safe. ‘That’s heart.’”

She pulled off her glasses and pressed her face into Nyota’s jacket, voice dropping to a thick whisper even though there was no one else around to hear her. “That’s how I got through those first few months after the Earth was gone,” she said. “On those nights that I couldn’t sleep, I tried to remember you.”

Nyota shifted off her knees and pulled an unprotesting Marcy into her lap, echoing how they had sat as the storm raged above them and the Tree’s roots creaked around them in the force of the gale, and held her close as Marcy trembled under the raw emotions that had filled both of them since they met again. Since Earth. “You don’t have to just remember anymore.”

 

The rest of Nyota’s water bottle went to washing their faces. Marcy laughed quietly, though not unkindly, as Nyota dried her face off on her sleeves. “That fur must be really inconvenient for this,” she teased. Doesn’t it take forever to dry?”

“Yes,” Nyota confirmed, “it does. Be happy you don’t have this lovely but inconvenient fuzz.”

Marcy laughed, a warm and genuine one. “Nice to see you haven’t changed  _that_ much,” she teased. “Do you joke around with that novakid and the apex lady like this?”

“Lumen and Eldie? On occasion.” Nyota hesitated. She hadn’t really thought about it before. “I’m technically their employer. Is it appropriate?”

That got her an indignant whack to the shoulder. “Listen to you, always fretting about rules, regulations…  _That_ really  _hasn’t_ changed. Lighten up!” Marcy exclaimed.

“I am a  _Captain,_ Marcy,” Nyota said. She kept her voice quiet and patient. A fight over something like this, after everything they had just gotten though? She didn’t want that. Despite her reputation in the Academy, Marcy had been nearly as bad as Isobu when it came to respecting authority she disagreed with, just more subtle about it.  _What if I have become an authority she dislikes?_ The thought lodged like a fist below Nyota’s ribs.

“You never did explain how that happened,” Marcy prompted, apparently oblivious to Nyota’s inner dispute. “If you haven’t met anyone else from the Protectorate, except maybe Esther, how did you get promoted?”

“De facto Captain, I suppose,” Nyota said faintly. She stood up, offering Marcy a hand as an afterthought. “I had the ship, and I recruited the crew.”

“Well, that would do it.” Marcy nodded mock-sagely, earning a ghost of a smile from Nyota. She frowned. “What’s up?”

An hour ago, Nyota might have dismissed the question, claimed  _it’s nothing_. She shook her head and asked, “Do you… not like that I am a Captain?”

“What? Oh.” Marcy considered the question, quiet and thoughtful where most people Nyota had met would have rushed to defend themselves. “I’m happy for you,” she said after a few moments. “I remember, you were so worried that no one would want you for their crew. Well here you’ve got people wanting to be on  _your_ crew. That’s a sign of confidence if I ever saw one.”

“But…?”

“I just worry about  _you,_ ” Marcy told her. She hadn’t let go of Nyota’s hand. “You tend to keep your distance from people. And knowing you, you’ve let whatever you think of as a captain’s place keep you from getting really close to your crew.”

Nyota looked away. Marcy was right. She always kept her walls up.

Marcy squeezed her hand. “Haven’t you joked around with them at all?”

A memory flickered up in Nyota’s mind, laughter and the taste of pancakes.  _Dirty_ laughter. “I might have,” she said, a slow smile creasing her face.

Marcy gasped. “Is that a  _naughty_ smile I see? You fuzzy scoundrel!”

Nyota snorted at the exaggerated surprise. “I’ve been called worse.” She poked the tip of Marcy’s nose.

“Hey, no fair. I can’t reach yours. Whoa!” Marcy’s startled cry turned into a giggle as she grabbed Nyota’s shoulder. “Warn me before you pick me up!”

“You can reach now,” Nyota told her, and grinned.

Marcy poked her nose. Nyota sneezed. Marcy immediately cracked up, raising her arms to protect her face as Nyota sneezed twice more in rapid succession. “Gross, ape-snot!”

“You,” Nyota sniffed, with as much dignity as she could muster, “have only yourself to blame.” She had to set Marcy down to smooth and flatten her newly-fluffed fur. She always looked  _ridiculous_ after sneezing.

Marcy just grinned and helped Nyota finish grooming her fur flat. “Wow. I forgot how soft you are.”

“Don’t pet me all day,” Nyota said with a slight teasing smile. “We still have to go meet Esther. Did you forget? I did say I would take you there.” Her smile widened as Marcy’s mouth dropped into a perfect little circle of surprise. “Better close that. You might catch bugs.”

“I might anyway, around Esther Bright. Have you read any her work? We managed to get a few of them reprinted. She’s crazy about insects,” Marcy said. Nyota put a hand on her shoulder in a futile effort to stop her bouncing in excitement. Marcy continued, undeterred. “And history! Dad took me to one of her lectures when I was a kid. It was absolutely amazing.”

“You’re worse than Isobu was about Leda,” Nyota said before she could catch the words. But they didn’t hurt. She found herself sharing a soft, fond smile with Marcy instead.

“He would have liked Esther too, I bet,” Marcy said, curling her fingers between Nyota’s again.

Nyota nodded. “He would. So you have to meet her for him.” Hand in hand, they climbed up the Ark steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #nyotaletyourselfbehappy2k19


	10. Prelude / Contact

“Nyota, welcome back!” Esther called as she spotted the apex coming up the stairs. “Oh—and is this young lady a new crewmate?”

“Only if she wants to be,” Nyota said, and grinned as Marcy’s mouth dropped into a perfect O of surprise, though whether that at the offer, Esther herself, or the massive carved stone gate looming above them, she couldn’t guess. “Esther, this is my old friend Marcy. She and I were classmates at the Protectorate Academy.”

Esther’s wrinkled old face lit up in the sunniest smile that Nyota had ever seen from her. “Another Protector! Is that right, dear?”

Marcy adjusted her glasses with an uncertain grin. “Not quite. I didn’t graduate in time… But Nyota and I were in the same year.”

“You’re still a Protector,” Esther said firmly. “If Nyota is willing to vouch for you, then I see nothing wrong with accepting her word. She’s got quite the eye for people, as I’m sure her crew would tell you.”

Marcy blinked. “Did I just… get promoted?”

“It would seem so.”

Marcy stifled a squeak as the new speaker jumped down from where she had been sitting on top of the Ark. “Wow—I mean, hi? Um. You’re tall.”

Lana Blake straightened up, dusted off her shoulder, and offered a small, amused smile. “You are not. It is a pleasure to meet you, little human. A friend of Nyota’s is a friend of mine. …within reason.”

“And with good reason,” Nyota added, putting a hand on Marcy’s shoulder to reassure her. It was so easy to forget, after four months, how intimidating Lana could be to those unfamiliar with her. She could feel Marcy shrinking back a little, though she didn’t tremble or back away. That was a good sign. “Marcy was my first true friend outside of the Miniknog. So… was there a reason for that dramatic entrance, or were you just showing off?”

Lana’s smile deepened, the corners of her green eyes crinkling slightly as she caught the tease in Nyota’s tone. “Esther needed a closer look at certain runes, and I was here to ask about a few findings from one of Arkadis’s scouting trips.” She held up a charcoal rubbing. “It was a fair trade.”

Nyota felt her fur stiffen slightly. Arkadis? No. That wasn’t right. She let out a long, quiet breath.

“What sort of findings?” Marcy shifted a little up on her toes. “Were they ruins?”

“Of a sort,” Lana said. She handed the rubbing to Esther, then pulled out a few small photographs that had been tucked into the folds in her scarf. She held them out for Nyota and Marcy to inspect.

Marcy took one of the photographs and frowned. “It looks like a Protectorate ship.”

“Almost correct,” Esther said. “This is some manner of storage vault, I believe. Though what it might contain, I couldn’t say. The last of these were decommissioned shortly before I became Grand Protector, and their contents were never disclosed to me. We had other matters on our minds with the USCM jockeying for power, so I never had time to investigate them.”

“Unfortunate,” Lana muttered, watching Marcy’s expression. “I was hoping you could tell me more about the dangers. Arkadis does not do well with being denied an opportunity to explore. I want to make the inevitable visit safer for him.”

Nyota crouched beside Marcy to study the image, then borrowed a loose magnifying glass from Esther’s lap desk for a clearer look. “I can help with that. Look here.”

The others leaned in expectantly.

“I’ve seen something like this before, years ago,” Nyota explained. Her fingertip rested just over an orange glow in the photograph that seemed to emanate from some manner of grey tube festooned with green wires. “The USCM nicknamed them ‘omnicannons’. I still remember the file. They’re some manner of parasitic worm colony that has taken up residence in an old energy cannon.”

Marcy raised an eyebrow. “And you know this how?” she asked, more curious than doubting.

“I had the ‘honor’ of being aboard a USCM research vessel before that organization collapsed. The exterior was riddled with them.” Nyota bared her teeth in revulsion. No apex liked even the idea of parasites. “Instead of purging or even attempting to contain the infestation, the USCM encouraged it, for their studies.”

Lana tilted her head. “Miniknog files claim that the USCM’s downfall was a result of their own insatiable curiosity and lack of common sense. I see there is truth to it.”

Nyota snorted. “That, and their utter lack of discipline and loyalty to anything but currency. But apex can hardly claim superiority, considering how our people have their loyalty kept.” She paused, biting her lip as she remembered her audience, but Lana just shook her head, unoffended.

“We will learn from those mistakes,” Lana promised, putting a hand on Nyota’s shoulder. “And your knowledge is valuable for that. I’ll pass the information along to Arkadis.”

“Thank you. If he finds anything particularly risky, I’ll ask Hadley if she can help,” Nyota offered. “She’s mentioned an interest in mechs recently, might be able to lend a hand.” Lana’s hand was cold from the chilled air, but Nyota’s shoulder felt warm at her touch.

Lana smiled, and the warmth spread. “I am grateful for the offer. Now, then. Am I interrupting business with Esther?”

“No, I had just intended to introduce—ah, maybe,” Nyota interrupted herself.

Marcy blinked. “Maybe what?”

Nyota looked down at her, then at the old Grand Protector. “Esther, I think Marcy could help you with those Ancient Vaults.”

“What? Me?” Marcy’s tone was almost identical to a flustered Oldarva’s, and Nyota had to clench her jaw to keep from laughing at the mental image of an apex-Marcy fluffed up like Eldie did. “I mean, I’m flattered, sure, but I don’t think I would be much good for you? I don’t even know if I passed those last history tests.”

Amusement pulled the smile back to Lana’s lips. “Wait to hear what she wants from you first,” she advised.

Nyota found herself mirroring Lana’s smile as she put a reassuring hand on Marcy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said. “This isn’t the kind of history that you’ll be tested on later. We don’t even know the right answers yet. That’s where we would need you.”

“I still don’t follow,” Marcy said. “I mean, I’m good at research, yes—” Her eyes lit up as it clicked. “But that’s all you need, isn’t it?”

“That would be quite helpful, dear,” Esther confirmed happily. “These old eyes aren’t as quick as they used to be, and two minds work sharper than one, you know.” She adjusted her glasses and started rummaging through a canvas bag that was fastened to the side of her wheelchair. “Now, where did I put it…? I know it’s here somewhere.”

Marcy hesitated. “Would I need to come here to help you?” she asked, twisting a lock of hair around her fingertip. “I don’t know if my parents would like that much. We’ve already been out for a while, and it’s a bit of a hike to the teleporter. I’ll have to ask them.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, dear,” Esther said. Her voice was a bit muffled as she leaned over for a better look into the back. “I say, if—aha, here it is! Take this with you.” She held out a slim electronic notebook. “Don’t worry, it is sturdier than it looks. This is my old laptop. It has most of my research on it, so you’re welcome to look through that if you like.”

“Oh  _wow_.” Marcy took the laptop, careful to support it with one hand beneath. “You’re serious about that?”

“Of course!” Esther chuckled. “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t serious. Nyota and Lana here can tell you that. More important than the research, though, is that I have managed to sneak a few upgrades onto it, based on what little I understand of the Ark’s technology. You should be able to contact me at any time with this. You might even be able to get in touch with Nyota, too, given that I can reach her myself.”

Nyota reached over and very gently pushed up under Marcy’s chin.

Marcy closed her mouth, looked at the laptop, handed it to Nyota, and went as if to hug Esther, but remembered herself and offered a handshake instead, which Esther accepted with another warm laugh. “Thank you very much, ma’am. This means more than I can say. Really.”

“Well, I’m glad you like it so much,” Esther said. The laugh-lines across her wrinkled face deepened as she patted Marcy’s hand. “I’m just glad that it can see some more use again. It still runs quite nicely. Now, I probably shouldn’t keep you, if you are worried about being away from home too long, but I can send you more information about what I’m researching once you’re home. How does that sound, dear?”

“That sounds lovely,” Marcy told her. She stepped back and took the laptop back from Nyota, holding it close. “I’ll try not to let you down.”

“You’ll do just fine. Would you like a mint humbug?”

“So, you planned this?” Lana asked quietly, stepping up beside Nyota as Marcy accepted the sweet from Esther. The low, heavy syllables of the Apex language felt both jarring and sweet against the backdrop of Esther’s Galactic Common.

“Not completely,” Nyota confessed. She kept her eyes on Marcy and her voice low to respect Lana’s clear wish for a private conversation. “I haven’t seen her since… since the Ruin destroyed Earth. We… both thought the other had died in the aftermath.” She swallowed, uselessly, against the faint lump in her throat. “I had to tell her about Isobu.”

A tiny gasp caught in Nyota’s throat and rattled into a low sound of gratitude as she felt Lana’s fingers curl around hers.

“It’s alright,” Nyota tried to tell her, as if she believed it. “We had a good cry. She will need time to come to terms with it, of course…”

“You still haven’t.”

Nyota flinched. A good part of her was furious—how dare Lana read her so easily, and say it out loud, something Nyota had never even admitted to herself? But… “So you remember,” she murmured.

“Of course I do.” Lana leaned close; Nyota could feel short fur whispering against her ear. “That night is when I let myself love you.”

Nyota felt the blood rush into her ears but she didn’t mind. She just leaned back against Lana’s shoulder, scarf cushioning her hair, the smell of steel and summer around her. The sorrow and indignity melted. Lana said she loved her. Nothing else mattered in the world. Nyota’s lips opened in a quiet chuckle.  _How_ absolutely  _maudlin._


	11. Partings / Family

“We both have our own fights to return to,” Lana said after a moment, and there was something like regret in her voice, but with a piece of hope as well as she added “You know how to reach me.”

Nyota half-closed her eyes and savored just a moment longer of Lana’s fingers in her hair, then nodded and stepped away. “And if you ever need my help,” she said, “contact me. I’ll find you.”

Lana smiled. “Of course.”

Marcy leaned her head on Nyota’s arm as Lana disappeared down the Arc steps. Nyota jumped slightly; she hadn’t noticed her little friend coming back over. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Marcy asked.

Nyota chuckled, surprising herself. “You have no idea.”

She was further surprised by Marcy’s wide grin. “You admit it!” her friend laughed. “Ah—sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, I know. But you would have  _never_ admitted it, you know.”

Nyota smiled with a slow steady warmth. “A lot  _has_  changed,” she agreed, the first time she had admitted it out loud. “Maybe for the better, with this. I fought it for a while, but Lumen and… and my own heart beat me down.”

Marcy patted as high as she could reach, not quite at Nyota’s shoulder. “Listen to you, you’re downright sentimental,” she teased. “I think I want to meet this crew of yours, if they’re the ones that did this. They must be quite something.”

“Later,” Nyota promised. “We need to get you home before your family puts up missing person notices.”

“Like we did for you, that first winter? Though I guess… oh.” Marcy’s face fell, and Nyota shifted to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright.” Nyota knelt down to face her and opened her arms for a hug. “It’s okay to remember him. Isn’t that what he would always say?  _Nothing is ever lost to us, as long as we remember it._ ”

Marcy nodded and Nyota squeezed a little tighter before loosening her grip so Marcy could pull back if she wanted. She held Nyota a few more moments before sitting back and wiping the beginnings of tears out of her eyes. “I’m okay now. Let’s go back. Dad’s going to be so happy to see you again.”

Nyota shifted as if to stand, then hesitated. “Marcy? Are  _you_ sure you are happy to see me again? I do not mean… I know we were—you were my closest friend, on Earth. But I know I have dropped a lot on you today, more than anyone should have—I am not who you thought I was. Are you really alright with that?”

“I don’t know,” Marcy said, and Nyota nodded. It was a fair answer. “I know that you did some bad things before I met you. No—” she reached up to put a hand over Nyota’s mouth. “Hey, you should crouch more often so I can do this. It’s fun.” She smiled a little as Nyota snorted. “But in all seriousness, do not tell me ‘mostly bad things’. Yes, you  _are_ predictable like that,” she said to Nyota’s incredulous and indignant stare. “Let me decide for myself, okay?”

Nyota considered her question, then closed her eyes and nodded in acceptance, reaching up to move Marcy’s hand away from her mouth. “As you wish,” she promised. “Ask any questions you like of me. I will answer you honestly. I promise that.”

“And if I don’t ask?”

Nyota snorted again. The idea of Marcy letting a curiosity lie… But she said, “I won’t force it on you.”

“Good. Now then,” Marcy said, starting up the stairs to the teleporter, “I do have one question for you.”

Nyota braced herself.

Marcy grinned. “That woman you’re totally crushing on, who is she? I didn’t get her name.”

Surprise took her words for a solid second. “Ah, sorry. That’s Lana Blake. She’s…” Nyota fidgeted with a sidelock, twisting it and tucking it behind an ear, only to tug it free again. “She’s more or less the leader of the rebellion.”

Marcy blinked, then started laughing. “The rebellion! As in the apex fighting your big government deal?” She patted as high up Nyota’s back as she could reach. “You  _have_ been busy! What in the world are you worried about?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nyota.” Marcy turned to look up at her. “You’re head over heels for the actual leader of the apex rebellion. If there’s any better proof you’re not inclined to Miniknog anymore, I don’t know what it is.”

A hot blush darted past Nyota’s sheepish grin and settled around her ears. “I envy your simple world.”

“It’s really nice,” Marcy told her, in that tone of voice one uses when too busy talking to actually stick a tongue out. “You should try it sometime. Come on, I’ll race you to the top.”

“And then you’ll either fall or complain my legs are too long,” Nyota teased. She reached down and scooped Marcy up onto her shoulders. Maybe she would try. The warm light in her shivered and danced as she headed toward the teleporter, banter in her ears, friend on her back, and feeling more like  _home_ than she had in a very long time.  _It is an illusion_ , she told herself, but she didn’t want the illusion to end.

-

“Can it be? Is that really a Nyota I see? Oh—pardon my rhyme.” Jonty Reese’s shocked stare split into a broad grin. “I didn’t mean this one. But it’s so good to see you! It is you, right? I have not just accosted a poor confused apex off the street?”

Nyota laughed; he was so like his daughter. “Yes, Mr. Jonty. It’s me.” She bent down a little to allow him to hug her properly. She could see Lumen and Oldarva out of the corner of her eye, back from purchasing the resources they needed. Lumen’s bright glow was as warm as any smile. Somehow they had managed to collect Namina as well, and he met Nyota’s curious stare with a cheeky fanged grin.

“So I see you have managed to collect quite a number of friends,” Mr. Jonty said as he let go. “These gentlemen and the lovely young lady say they’re in your crew?”

“That’s right,” Lumen confirmed as Eldie blushed at the compliment. “Nyota here’s our Captain.”

Jonty whistled. “Nine months out and you made Captain already! I told you that you’d go places, girl.” He patted Nyota’s shoulder and hugged her again briefly.

“It was by default more than anything,” Nyota protested. “I can fly the ship.”

“Tell that to the seven of us,” Lumen countered. “We ain’t gonna follow someone who can jus’ fly a ship.”

“Seven!” Marcy gave Nyota a look that was somehow simultaneously reproachful and proud. “And you thought you wouldn’t even be taken on a ship. I’ll want to meet all of them, you know that, right?”

“Another day,” Nyota promised over Namina’s snickers. “I think I have kept you from your family long enough, and I need to return to my ship.”

Mr. Jonty nodded. “I wish I could invite all of you to dinner,” he said, “but I only have the supplies for the three of us tonight. It would be a little on the sparse side, I’m afraid.”

“It’s fine.” Nyota smiled and shook her head. “I’ll visit again sometime. I can cook for all of you instead, then. And no, Marcy, the pancakes will not taste like plaster.”

“She’s really quite good at making them,” Oldarva offered with an anxious smile as Marcy dissolved into nostalgic laughter.

“It’s alright, Eldie. Marcy knows.” Nyota’s smile widened, crinkling the corners of her eyes. “She was there for the first and worst of it, but I did get better.”

Eldie blushed again, deeper, and Nyota touched her shoulder gently as a reassurance that no harm was done.

“You really did. Those oculemon meringue pies of yours were always fabulous,” Marcy said happily.

“Then I know what I’ll bring next time.” Nyota gestured for her crew to follow her; she had intruded enough on the Reese family’s time. “We’ll be in touch.”

Both Reeses stepped forward and hugged Nyota one more time, deep and long. Nyota’s eyes were damp again through her smile when they finally let go. “Our door is always open,” Jonty told her. “But you already know that.”

A memory of tea by the fire, blankets and shelter through her first true storm, warm hands thawing hers in the snow, dinner for four where it had only been three before, a new chair sized just for her. “I do.”

-

“You must be wondering who they are,” Nyota said to her crew as they left the library behind. It was very hard to resist the urge to go back inside as she heard that cheerful, achingly familiar jangle of the chime set above the doorframe.

Lumen chuckled. “Not really wonderin’, Captain.”

“Floran can guessss,” Namina said. “Old friendss?”

“I thought they might be your family,” Oldarva ventured.  

“My  _family_  gave me over to the Miniknog when I was a child,” Nyota reminded her stiffly. A little guilt stuck in her throat as she saw Oldarva’s tiny flinch, enough for her to soften her expression and offer her hand in a silent apology.

Lumen shook his head. “Nah,” he said, “them’s just yer parents. But I ain’t ever seen more love in yer face to  _anyone_ than I did just now. Those folk there? That’s yer family.”

Surprise caught in Nyota’s throat and tightened a slow smile up at the corners of her lips. “Thank you,” she said. She had never thought of it like that before.

Lumen led the way back up the street and away from the library, Oldarva trailing close behind him. Patchwork felt so different now, under the amber sunset. It felt quiet, but not homelike. Nyota was reminded of the Grand Pagoda Library. Several of the buildings looked abandoned, overgrown with vines, but Nyota could see people moving around inside them. Perhaps the local Floran had claimed them.

That reminded her. “Namina,” she said, “is there a particular reason you joined us now? You could have just asked to come with us when we left.”

“Floran overssslept,” Namina admitted with a sheepish grin. “But Floran heard Captain was going to Patchwork. Can’t missss that. Floran hass friends here.”

Apex lacked humanity’s flamboyant eyebrows to raise, but that did not stop Nyota from attempting to mimic their standard quizzical expression. “I hope you mean the truly friendly sort instead of the more murderous ‘friends’,” she said.

Namina just laughed. “Friendly sssort.”

They walked in silence for a while longer, up the gradual slope that led to the tele-port. The road felt longer to Nyota now, though easier than it had been that morning, with the weight of memories and nostalgia under her. Her left leg complained of the effort, but none of her crewmates complained as she slowed her pace, content to accept her excuse of admiring the buildings. It was true, at least. She did enjoy the architecture here, with the narrow windows and fine blue slate roofs.

Something moved in one of those windows. Nyota’s shoulders tensed, fur rising. She recognized what it was in the same moment that she heard Oldarva shout “Gun!”

A red splatter blossomed across Namina’s chest.


	12. Mihre / Rest and Renewal and Pancakes

Oldarva screamed. Namina was cursing viciously as Lumen dragged him back behind a wide stone lamp; the novakid glowed sun-bright with fear. Nyota pushed herself between Oldarva and the gun in the window, mind whirring.

It clicked. Floran didn’t bleed red.

“ _Paint,_ ” Namina snarled, indignant beyond coherency. “Bassstard!”

A throaty, rasping chuckle answered his rage. “Paint.” An olive-green floran stepped out of the window they had used as a sniper perch, shouldering an odd, sleek teal rifle, and slid down on the long vines that trailed down the front of the building. “Ssso. No vissits, no wordsss, but bringing new friends to Patchwork?” they asked. “Unwise, sssprout.”

Namina’s snarl faded to a low grumble. “Greythorn.”

Lumen took his hand off his holstered pistol. “What the ding-dong blazes is goin’ on here?” he asked, burning tense and hot.

Greythorn saluted, rustling the large white flower in their foliage, then turned to Oldarva and Nyota with a surprisingly soft smile, despite their fangs. “Apologiess,” they said. “I forget apex are not usssed to Floran greetings.”

“Goodness,” Oldarva murmured. Nyota shifted to put an arm around her shoulders in case she needed support. She didn’t sound well at all.

“It would be best for you to remember that next time,” Nyota told them stiffly. “You are a friend of Namina’s?”

“Sssibling,” Greythorn corrected her almost gleefully. “Sssprout iss foundling in same village. Mihre is also foundling. Sssiblings.”

“Mihre?” Nyota asked.

Greythorn tapped the side of their head in a classic ‘I forgot’ gesture. “Firsst name. Greythorn is village name, given after I left.”

A little of Nyota’s hostility vanished, though only a little. “And do you plan to tell us why exactly you shot Namina with a paintball?”

“Sssibling,” Mihre repeated, and there was no mistaking the gleefulness this time.

Nyota considered the answer (and her own past three months of being a big sister) and nodded. It was, in fact, a good reason.

Namina made a throaty noise of distress as he tried again to get the paint off his chest and Mihre took pity on him. “Come inside,” they offered. “Ssolvent can get that off.”

“No time for visits,” Namina said. His tone was quite grumbly again. “Going back to ship.”

Mihre rustled their foliage again in a floran shrug. “Then ssstay put. I’ll bring it out.”

“Namina,” Nyota said quietly as Mihre ducked back inside, “do you mind telling me who exactly they are?”

“Someone mighty dangerous,” Lumen hummed. His glow still hadn’t faded back to calm. “Did ya see the mark on their sleeve, Captain? They’re one of them mob folk I told ya ‘bout.”

Namina snorted. “Floran iss always dangerous,” he reminded Lumen, swatting the novakid’s corona playfully. “Mihre iss more and lessss than most. Nasssty-good shot with that rifle, not as likely to shoot. Sssmart floran.”

Oldarva swallowed her fear. It was hard for her to be afraid of someone that Namina vouched for. “What do you mean?”

“Mihre is Greenfinger’s help here,” Namina explained. “Very sssmart, keeps food going, planss things for other Floran. Is…” He fumbled for the words. “Iss…  _tactical_ sshrub.”

“Like Commander Blake?” Oldarva asked.

“Yess! Sshrub-Blake.” Namina grinned broadly, showing off his thorny teeth. The mental image of a leafy Lana made Nyota chuckle.

“The two of ya left home together?” Lumen asked. He kept his brand turned toward the building Mihre had come from, humming softly and warily. As much as he liked Namina, he was slower to trust this stranger than Eldie.

“Nope.” Namina shrugged. “Mihre left many sseasons before Floran.”

“Sssprout tagged along after,” Mihre teased, returning with a small bottle of solvent in one hand and a bucket in the other. “Took his ssweet time.”

Namina made a low grouching noise, but he was grinning as he took the solvent and removed the paint from himself. His grin widened—the only warning before he upended the bucket on Mihre. Mihre hissed and spluttered, wiping water out of their eyes to glower balefully at Namina. But Namina just grinned and Mihre eventually mirrored it, shaking the water off and extending a hand to their brother.

“Even?” they asked.

“Even,” Namina agreed.

Mihre turned to Nyota, Lumen, and Eldie. “Tele-port iss quickest from this way,” they said, gesturing for them to follow. “Ssorry for slowing you down. You can use sssecret floran shortcut.”

True to their word, Mihre led the small group up through a tangle of forgotten, overgrown passages that stopped right below the entrance to the tele-port in half the time it might have taken to reach by the main road. Nyota’s bad leg ached a little still, but she smiled as she thanked them, knowing it would have been worse without their help.

Mihre just offered her a cryptic but gentle smile in return and gestured as if offering a handshake. Instead of shaking her hand, they closed both theirs around hers and patted it twice. “Miss Marcy iss happy because of you. That’s thanks enough.”

“Wait, are you-“

The floran just chuckled. “Friends come in all shapes, yes? Sssafe travels.”

Nyota lowered her hand and stepped back with a nod. “Safe travels.”

-

Marcy was waiting for them when they stopped by with the evening newspaper and a bucket of fresh produce from the deep nests. “Thanks, Mihre,” she said, accepting the gifts. “Dad left some meat from the hotpot for you if you want it.”

“Good,” Mihre all but purred. Jonty’s cooking was quite a delicacy to them. But the promise of meat didn’t hold their focus long. “…sssmall friend looks troubled. What iss it? I thought you might be happy, with your old friend back.”

“It’s…” Marcy bit back  _it’s nothing_ ; that was Nyota’s way out, and the apex had stopped running too. Now it was her turn. “Mihre? Can you tell me about the Miniknog?”

Mihre hissed and shook their head. “Can tell, but… dark ssstories. You are ssure?”

“Yes. I need to know.”

 

-

 

Nyota slept soundly for the first time in a long while, and that surprised her. No nightmares, no restless roaming, no weight of tomorrow, just a quiet dream of making breakfast for someone whose face she couldn’t quite recall. It left her with a feeling of curiosity, and a strong desire for fresh fruit and pancakes.

“Aren’t you working a little hard for this early in the morning?”

“Aren’t you awake a few hours too early?” Nyota asked, smiling at the vines under her fingers as she caught Hadley’s voice behind her. The sun had risen not quite an hour ago on Mimosa Strand I, and wisps of fog still dripped along under the leaves as she tended her garden.

She could hear the grin in Hadley’s voice. “Sonny said you were excited about something yesterday. Nearly sparkling, those were her words. I can’t let my dear Captain sparkle without being good and supportive, right?”

“Giving me a hard time about it, you mean,” Nyota replied, and looked up with a wry grin as Hadley smirked back at her. She sat back on her heels and tucked her harvest into a basket, then stood up. “Did you plan to help me, or just watch?”

“Well, you seem to have already picked everything that’s in my reach.” Hadley indicated her lack of height compared to Nyota. “So what happened?”

“I woke up early and had a craving for fruit.” Nyota shifted a little to evade Hadley’s swipe at her elbow.

“You absolutely know that’s not what I’m asking about.” Hadley tucked her arms behind her head and looked up at Nyota with an almost thoughtful expression. “Look at you, lost in thought already. What’s going on in that fuzzy head of yours?”

Nyota surprised herself and Hadley both by chuckling softly at the former bandit’s cheerful insolence. “I’m just remembering. Let’s go back to the ship. Maybe I’ll tell you more when we’re there.”

Hadley picked up one of the other baskets of fruit and followed Nyota back to the teleporter. “I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

“Of course you will.”

A memory from yesterday sat dense and unshifting in her mind as she keyed in the ship teleporter code. ‘ _You’ve let whatever you think of as a captain’s place keep you from getting really close to your crew.’_ Nyota closed her eyes.  _I’m trying, Marcy._

-

“That’s a lot of flour,” Hadley said as Nyota pulled it down from the shelf. It was testament to how busy Namina had been lately that the bag was sitting in its usual spot and not hidden in some obscure spot out of reach.

“We have quite a few mouths to feed,” Nyota replied. “And a few without mouths that still could use some breakfast.”

Hadley laughed. “Yeah, I’ll probably never get used to seeing Sonny stuff a whole pancake in her face. It’s real funny.”

Nyota hummed in amused agreement and pulled out a few eggs for the batter. “I am sure we look equally strange to her.”

“Not really.” Hadley’s gaze shifted toward the ceiling, the mischief and humor shifting to something more distant. “She’s used to humans. She was on Earth for a good long while, you know, before she found her way to Mars and started working for Lumen.”

“Is that so?” Nyota glanced up. “Has she told you much about it?”

“That’s another ‘not really.’ She isn’t exactly eager to talk about that.” Hadley shrugged. “Maybe she thinks it’ll make me sad, since I’m human. But it’s not like I ever went to Earth anyhow. My family hasn’t been back there since great-grandma was scouted by Letheia, and we all know how that turned out.”

Nyota tilted her head and waited for Hadley to realize that she did not, in fact, know how that turned out.

“Ah, right. I guess I haven’t told you the whole story?” Hadley settled back against the counter to watch Nyota start cracking eggs into a bowl. “I guess the long and short of it is that great-grandma didn’t much like how Letheia scammed her and the other miners. You know the drill probably, actually. It’s not much different from how the Miniknog does things. Cut rations, misplaced pay, convenient accidents for anyone seen as a ringleader, that sort of deal. They couldn’t do it with the total impunity the ‘knog has, of course,” she added as Nyota looked up. “The hylotl wouldn’t stand for that, with their whole pacifism deal. But if they paint it as tragedy and hardship, make a few bleeding hearts to overlook the blood on their hands…”

Nyota hissed softly and cracked an egg with a little more force than necessary.

“Yeah, basically,” Hadley agreed, reaching out to steady the bowl. “But don’t break your plates over it. They had to cut back after great-grandma took off. She hauled off in one of their own shipments, commandeered the deal, and took her coworkers with her as crew. We’ve been bandits ever since, and Letheia backed off a little bit to keep more folks from following her. I’ll give them one thing, they remember their history pretty damn well.”

“Not well enough,” Nyota murmured. She still dreamed of the erchius-corroded miners, the lockdown and the crystal with its single red eye.

Hadley’s comfortably slouched posture shifted. “You say something?”

“Not much,” Nyota said, shaking her head. Focus on the moment. “Thank you for the story.”

“No problem.” Hadley grinned and relaxed again. “I’m kind of surprised I hadn’t told you already, really. Sonny’s asked me to retell it five times. So what’s cooking?”

Nyota finished mixing the eggs into the batter. “Nothing yet,” she said, collecting her skillet, “but it might be pancakes.”

“Pancakes!” The delight was tangible even without Hadley’s sudden wide grin. “Great! Say, Captain, think we’ll get any good jokes again this time?” Her grin turned sly and she made a very familiar naughty gesture.

Nyota laughed. “I regret teaching you that one. We’ll see.”


	13. Discovery / The Walls Between Them

The beaded cord on Marcy’s reading glasses jangled softly as she adjusted how they sat on her nose. It didn’t change anything, but it gave her something to do with the jangling thoughts in her mind. Some of them were easier to quiet than others. She told herself they weren’t relevant.  _I’m running probably,_ she thought.  _Like Nyota. But that’s fine for now._

She didn’t want to think about what Mihre had told her. It was probably stupid to ask them. But she had to know, and she knew that Nyota would have tried to soften it. Not to protect herself—Nyota had never been the sort to cover her own hide, really, as long as Marcy had known her. “She would have tried to ‘protect’  _me,_ ” Marcy muttered as she scrolled down the page on her (on Esther’s) laptop. And with some of the things Mihre had said, she wished she had remained ignorant. But she had to know, and it was so much better to learn in the safety of her own home than against her will…

“I’m doing it again,” Marcy grumbled, catching the train of thought and focusing on the screen again. She had work to do.

It really was fascinating, what Esther had done. Marcy had already filled several pages of the notebook beside her with comments, annotations, and key points from the decades of research on the screen in front of her now. The whole chronicle of what Nyota had started telling her was here: six relics, with Esther herself carrying the last. Nyota herself found all the others, with help from a growing crew. Even stranger was that all the relics had been hidden away somehow, with only the Floran treasure being truly public knowledge.

“I wonder if there’s something to that,” Marcy murmured, clicking on an image of the relic and zooming in so she could get a better look at the markings. Despite what Mihre had mentioned to her once about young floran champions liking to chew on the prize, it bore no marks of wear, which was quite peculiar when she considered the strength and sharpness of the average floran fang (Mihre was fond of demonstrating).

Marcy tugged at a curl as she considered the options, then opened her messenger app and selected Mihre’s icon, a floran-snake chasing its tail. With any luck, they wouldn’t be busy. A reply from them could take either seconds or hours, with no in-between.

She got lucky. About two minutes after her greeting, the snake icon popped up again. “You’re up early. Have you eaten breakfast?”

Marcy laughed. Mihre could be even more of a mother hen than  _Nyota,_ and that was saying something. “Not yet,” she typed. “Dad’s not awake yet. He won’t like it if I make a ruckus in the kitchen.”

“Humans and your sleep,” came Mihre’s reply, and Marcy could almost hear their hissing laugh. “You had questions?”

“I did. Here.” Marcy sent the image of the floran relic over to Mihre. “You saw this up close a few times, right? What’s it made of?”

There was a longer pause this time before the snake icon produced the ellipses that said Mihre was typing, but the marks vanished and reappeared several times, like Mihre was typing, erasing, and typing again. A new message finally appeared: “We call it the Ceremonial Bone, and we always assumed it was made of bone, but it doesn’t scratch or break like bone does when bitten. When I was a sprout, I gave it a good gnawing. It tastes like bone, but there’s something else to it.”

Marcy nodded slowly, remembered that Mihre couldn’t see her, and sent the appropriate emoji. The little face’s happy bobbling captured her growing excitement very nicely. “Maybe augmented bone,” she sent. “I wonder if the other relics are like that.”

“Other relics?” Mihre hadn’t mastered the use of animated emojis yet, but the little face they produced with a question mark for a mouth worked fine. “Did you find a big something?”

A thought hit Marcy. She closed out of the messenger and opened her emails. “Esther,” she wrote, “can I bring in a friend to help me with this? They’re pretty clever, and I trust them.”

The reply came a minute later and Marcy sighed in relief as she read “Of course, dear. The more minds we have on this, the better our results could be. If you trust them, I have no complaints at all.”

Marcy sent back a quick “Thanks” and opened the messenger again. She was promptly treated to a pair of quick blips as Mihre’s messages arrived. “Just going to leave me in my curiosity?” with a teasing smile icon, followed by “Marcy? You there?”

“Sorry about that,” Marcy replied. “I was checking on something.” Her hands paused above the keys as Mihre sent her a jolly waving symbol. This would be difficult. Unless… “Can you spare some time to come visit today?” she asked. “I have some stuff I want to show you.”

 

-

 

“Arjun?”

The mechanic jumped and nearly dropped his wrench. “Anyone ever tell you that you move way too quietly, Nyota?” he asked, turning to face his captain. He still hadn’t figured out how to read her expressions.

“On occasion,” she admitted, making no to attempt to enter. Her bulk took up surprisingly little of the doorway. It was like she was trying to make her presence smaller. “May I have a word?”

Guilt flickered in Arjun’s belly, leaving him surprised and angry. Had she heard his words at the foot of the Ark? What did it matter if she had? “Do as you like,” he said gruffly, turning back toward his tools and the polish rag resting on the pile of crates he had claimed as a desk.

Nyota all but crept into the room. She always kept her back to the wall, he’d noticed. Smart woman. Or paranoid. Those tended to go hand in hand with apex.

“How is the ship holding up?” she asked. “I plan to take us to the Muhlifain Morass system soon. We took the leap to Patchwork well enough, but can it handle the trip back?”

“Old Muhlifain?” Surprise shifted the wariness out of him. “Sure, I can get things in order for a jump there. What are we after? A social call, or something bigger?”

The considering pause told him that she hadn’t been thinking about that, but it intrigued him, that she didn’t just dismiss the idea offhand. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” she said. “I’ll see if I can glean some surplus from my garden before we go.”

“Aly will like that,” Arjun said. Warm approval settled in and relaxed his shoulders. “She and Geo are always caught between a rock and a hard place with food. Only so much hunting and foraging you can do in a frozen waste.”

Nyota nodded sympathetically. Arjun had the feeling she knew that all too well. Apex were no strangers to hunger, of course, but he had the feeling it went deeper than that. There was so much he didn’t know about this woman, which wasn’t exactly unusual with apex. But somehow it bothered him more, from her. Perhaps because he knew she was dangerous, but he had known that from the start, watching her tear through the bandits that cornered them when they met. Something had changed about her, lately. Since she came back from the Ark.

He was wrenched out of his thoughts by the realization that she was waiting for a response. “Eh? Sorry, Captain, could you repeat that?” Arjun tugged at one of his cap’s earflaps. “My hearing’s not what it used to be.”

She kept her expression neutral and Arjun couldn’t tell if she knew he was lying. “There is an ancient gateway in that system,” she explained. “I plan to visit it, to help Esther with her research. You’ve been working with her quite a bit, I understand?”

Another bubble of guilt caught Arjun off guard. He didn’t know where this one had come from. “Sonny and I have been helping her with finding inscriptions on the Ark,” he replied. His back was rock-tense again. “We didn’t have much else to do for the past few months.”

He couldn’t have gotten a deeper reaction if he had outright slapped her. The almost lively interest froze into stillness and there was a flicker of true anger in her eyes before it drowned in—to his shock—remorse. “I am sorry,” she murmured, breaking eye contact for the first time since he had met her. “I did not mean to tie all of you down.”

“Hold on now, I didn’t mean it like that—” Arjun stopped. It wasn’t like he could deny it. She wouldn’t believe him.

But there was that odd little smile of hers. The one that didn’t look like a metal mask, or living but almost too perfect. It was a little lopsided, a little timid. A child caught spying with one eye past the doorframe. “You’re kind to say that,” she said, and he could have sworn he glowed under the shame burning hot in his chest. “You  _were_ stuck here, with your pilot too weak to teach, let alone fly. Though I heard that you learned well despite that.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Arjun mumbled, pulling his cap down a little further over his eyes. “It did well enough for short supply runs.”

A little pause in her manner, like when they spoke down in the Ark. But it was gone so fast that Arjun thought he had imagined it. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Eh?” This time he didn’t even bother with theatrics. He couldn’t read her face, but she felt… almost hopeful.

“Would you like to come with me?” Nyota repeated. “You enjoy helping Esther, and she spoke quite well of your work. When I reach the gate, I might not be able to reach Esther. I could use your help.”

Caution gone, Arjun’s mouth dropped open, then spread into a slow grin like he hadn’t given Nyota since she asked him to join her crew nearly half a year ago. Maybe he’d be wary again tomorrow. Right now, he didn’t care. Did she trust him still? Could he explore? Good enough. Arjun nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”


	14. Comforts of Home / Phantom

The dreams were restless again. Nyota woke in a panic, then relaxed as she realized the vise-like grip on her arm was not, in fact, manacles or a genuine vise. She lay still for several seconds, willing the terror and her wild breathing to die down, and then started carefully untangling herself from the sheets.

A little creak interrupted her and she froze again before catching the gentle scent of laundry soap and vanilla. It was always so easy to tell what Oldarva had been doing the day before. No matter how hard she washed after, she couldn’t quite shake the aroma away until it wore off on its own. Nyota was grateful for that. It made it easier to be unafraid. “Did you knock?” she asked quietly, as soon as she could speak. Her voice was calm, no accusation.

“You didn’t answer,” Oldarva replied. She indicated the sheets, long pajama sleeves draping over her hands before she folded them back. “May I help you?”

Nyota nodded, voice abandoning her again. It was always so hard to speak right after she woke up, harder still if she had been dreaming. Oldarva understood. She sat beside Nyota, turned on the bedside lamp, and started carefully loosening the sheets so Nyota could finally pull herself loose. Nyota heaved a low sigh of relief, and felt her skin shiver as Oldarva’s fingers threaded through her fur.

“Sorry—I should have asked.” Oldarva started to pull back.

“No, it feels good,” Nyota whispered, lightly catching her hand, not to insist, just reassuring. She sank into the pillows with a soft purr as Oldarva gave her a shy smile and resumed stroking her shoulders.

After a while, Oldarva asked, “What was it, this time?”

Nyota exhaled again, trying to breathe the tension out, feeling herself shrink slightly but not enough. “I couldn’t help them,” she said, and it was enough. Oldarva spread her hands across Nyota’s shoulder blades, slowly pressing and kneading the tension out. “You’re good at this,” Nyota murmured.

“I used to be well-practiced,” Oldarva said, and Nyota felt her heart twist in sympathy. She knew the meaning even without the details. But then Eldie added, “Namina likes it like this.”

The knot in Nyota’s heart faded with the knots in her shoulders as Eldie’s clever fingers found the sorest spots and eased them away. “You two are close, now?” She chuckled softly as Eldie paused, knowing the blush was there even without looking at her face.

“He has  _very_ nice hands,” Oldarva said, smiling through her true crimson blush as Nyota’s chuckle deepened.

There was a long silence, no sound but their quiet breathing and the whisper of fingers through fur. “They are safe,” Oldarva said at last. “Everyone was still asleep in their bunks when I got up. They are safe.”

Nyota relaxed. “Thank you.” It was the most heartfelt thing Nyota had said since her parting with Marcy. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s alright, I was already up to get some water,” Oldarva said. She hesitated. “I know what it’s like.” Her tone was too light for the reality, they both knew, but there was no way she could have held the sheer weight in the words alone. “I used to check up on my siblings, when I was younger, before…”

 _Before they took your brother._ Nyota rolled onto her side and curled her hand around Oldarva’s. Surprise shifted across Oldarva’s face, but the ginger apex didn’t protest as Nyota slid her hand up around her elbow and coaxed her down. Grooming was best done as a mutual thing, they both knew. It was the clearest way Nyota knew to show love, or to reassure. Oldarva needed both.

“I heard from them at last,” Oldarva whispered as she got comfortable, relaxing into Nyota’s hands.

“What?” Nyota stopped, leaning closer.

“There was a letter. Tarvei gave it to me after you left for the outpost two—no, three days ago, I suppose.” Eldie’s voice was breathless, excited, shivering. “They’re still safe.”

“Good…” Nyota started teasing small knots out of Eldie’s fur again. Lana had been looking for Oldarva’s family since Nyota sent her that note in the aftermath of Big Ape. “Did the rebels get them out, then?” Her heart sank as she saw Oldarva shake her head.

“No, not yet. Their town, it’s… I would have to ask Commander Blake for the details, but they said there is a large Miniknog building in town, and so many guards.” Nyota could feel her fear, how she fought to suppress it. “But Tarvei said he’s helping them. He brought food, and the guards don’t really seem interested in the people there, for once.”

To Oldarva’s eternal surprise, Nyota slid an arm under her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle hug. “I’m happy for you,” she whispered. “We’ll free them, Oldarva. I promise”

“Yes.” Oldarva turned to look at Nyota, green eyes shining with hope. “Thank you so much, Captain. If you hadn’t… Thank you. For everything.”

The last tendrils of restless fear from her nightmare melted, at last. Nyota smiled into Oldarva’s fur and let sleep creep back in through the steady motion of her hands.

-

Frost crunched underfoot, her breath fogged out before her, and Nyota felt truly  _alive_ for the first time since she had fallen asleep in her brother’s arms at the Ark, so many weeks ago. “How long has it been since I last saw snow?” she asked aloud.

“Maybe too long,” Arjun said, a hint of a smile visible under his cap as he adjusted it to keep fog out of his visor. “You’re grinning like a child.”

“You ain’t got much room to talk, Gramps,” Sonny teased. She gave him a poke in the ribs and got a ruffled corona for her troubles.

Hadley looked up to watch the gently falling snow and cursed as a flake got in her eye. “Never understood the point of the white fluffy stuff,” she said as she blinked the cold away. “Regular rain is bad enough—hey Captain, what are you doing?”

“Shhh.” Nyota straightened up, took aim, and threw.

Lumen held out his hands, marveling as the snow hissed into steam as it touched his fingers. “Some novas ain’t too fond of cold,” he was saying, “but this place ain’t too bad. It’s right lovely, seein’—oof!”

The snowball caught him square in the chest.

“Hey now, which of ya jokers pulled that one?” he asked as Hadley, Namina, and Sonny cracked up. The snow on his vest sizzled away as he brushed at it. Arjun pointed at Nyota and Lumen whistled. “Nah, Captain?”

“Maybe,” Nyota said, and knocked off his knitted hat.

She had to duck fast as Hadley tried to avenge Lumen with a frosty fastball to her ears. Snowflakes dusted her hair as it whizzed by. There was a sharp yelp as Hadley learned that turning her back on Arjun was not a good idea. Nyota laughed under the cursing and scooped up another handful.

“Alarmed. I don’t want to get snow in my gears,” Arrowmail protested, scooting away from the sudden chaos.

“C’mon, let’s get out of it,” Sonny said. She laughed, ducked a snowball, and pulled Arrowmail out of the way. “Buncha funny hooligans we’ve got, huh?”

“Anxious. Maybe,” the glitch conceded. He whirred nervously and leaned a little farther back behind the tree.

Snow flew wild and fast. Stray shots knocked flurries down from the evergreens overhead. If anyone had time to think, they would have been shocked to hear Nyota’s laughter, loose and almost careless, but they were too busy dodging her snowballs and trying to give as good as they got. Her last shot cleared Lumen’s head by a few inches.

“What are ya aimin’ at, Captain?” he teased. “My brand’s down here.”

“I—” Nyota’s face froze slightly and she straightened up, snow dropping unnoticed from her hands, Hadley’s snowball splattering off her back without reaction. And Lumen was orange, and shorter, and  _Lumen_ again.

Lumen made a low, quirky sound deep in his brand. “Where’d ya go, Captain?” he asked. “I ain’t much an expert, but I’d say it ain’t here.”

“I am fine,” Nyota said quietly. “We should probably get moving to the camp now. They’ll wonder what happened to us.”

“Yeah, don’t want them sending out a search party,” Arjun agreed. He took off his cap to dust the snow off of it. “Never hear the end of that. ‘Aren’t you the geezer Geo dug out of a snowdrift?’ Pfah.”

Sonny giggled and leaned on him, her warmth melting the last flakes off. “Sounds like you got  _experience_ ,” she teased.

Arjun flicked her corona. “Quit your jingling.” Sonny just giggled more. “So, Captain. Where are we going from here?”

“I don’t see any tracks,” Oldarva said, looking around. Her voice was muffled by a thick scarf; she was thoroughly bundled up, despite her fur, and still shivered a little as the cold wind bit past her. Generations of living on an arid planet had certainly taken their effect.

“We’re still a decent way away from the camp,” Nyota told them. The mantle of Captain settled firmly back down around her shoulders. “I didn’t want to alarm anyone with a sudden appearance, or tip off spies. This way.”

Lumen kept close to her as the crew followed her through a narrow passage between snow-covered boulders and across the frozen ground. Nyota almost wished he wouldn’t, stopping herself for a third time from turning to look. Fond as she was of Lumen, the disappointment cut deep, every time. It was copper she saw, not gold. She knew better than to chase a phantom.


	15. Outskirts of Muhlifain Camp / Hers

Their arrival went unannounced, and Nyota was grateful. The guard on watch just signaled that she had seen them and that it was okay to go on through. Lumen and Sonny both flickered sharply as they stepped into the perimeter, Lumen with a crackle of alarm.

“Sorry about that,” the guard called. “Magnetic interference. It keeps the Miniknog off our trail.”

“Eeeh ‘s fine.” Lumen stumbled into Eldie, caught himself, and shook his head. His glow stabilized with a very discordant tone. “Hoo, ain’t that a knock to the ol’ brand.”

Sonny just giggled and spun in place. Arrowmail caught her shoulders and held her still until she calmed down. She flickered again and whistled, leaning into the glitch, looking back at the perimeter. “That was kinda fun.”

“Oh no ya don’t,” Lumen warned. “That’s  _bad_ stuff for novas. Keep away from that until we go, lil’ Glowbug.”

Sonny whistled again, sadder, but she obediently followed Lumen, boots crunching on the light snow.

“It’s just around the perimeter?” Nyota asked. She kept her worried eyes on the two novakid.

“That’s right,” the guard confirmed. “It might mess with our stuff otherwise. Or us. I don’t feel like being a test subject for the effect of magnetism on apex, do you? Okay, that was tasteless,” she admitted, seeing Nyota’s faint shudder. “Sorry about that.”

Nyota shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”

“It isn’t, though. I’m sorry I rattled you.” The guard signaled to another apex to take her spot, then climbed down from the watchtower, took off her helmet, and shook out her short golden-orange hair. “You’re Saimiri, right? The older one. I’ve met Vei before. Nice to finally see you.”

Wariness stiffened down Nyota’s neck. She shook it away. There was no reason for that now. “It’s a pleasure,” she said, and remembered a cordial smile as the guard tapped a fist to her collarbone in friendly greeting.

“The name’s Zoya. I taught your little brother how to throw knives. Sorry about that.”

Nyota mimicked the greeting, her smile growing more genuine. “No need to apologize for that,” she said. “You did a great job.”

“Yeah.” Zoya grinned. “Then he taught me how to throw axes.”

Hadley cracked up. “The more I hear about Tarvei, the more I like him!” she wheezed. “Axes! He hasn’t said a  _thing_ about that!”

“Family tradition,” Nyota said with a mysterious smile. “We Saimiris keep our secrets.”

“What are you smirking for?” Hadley asked. “I bet you didn’t even know.”

“Irrelevant.”

“So,” Zoya said, leaning back a little and tucking her hands into her sleeves, “what brings you to visit us? If you were hoping to catch Vei, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. He had to get back to work before someone got suspicious.”

A tickle of dread sank into the base of Nyota’s throat. “He’s good at what he does?” she asked softly.

“One of our best.” Zoya caught her eye and put a hand on Nyota’s shoulder. “The boy’s managed this long, and even longer before making contact with us in the first place. Besides, it’s just a minor merchant he’s tied on with, not one of the bigwigs. He will be okay. Isn’t that a Saimiri knack, too?”

“He helped you pretty good with that big ol’ bone dragon, right?” Sonny chimed in.

Nyota shook her head. “This is different.”

“Sure it is,” Zoya agreed, “but not out of his league.” She caught the hesitation in the set of Nyota’s jaw and patted her shoulder again. “…I wasn’t guessing, Saimiri. A few of us remember Taisa, before she dropped out of spying proper. If your little brother has inherited even half as much of her talent as you have her looks, he’ll be just fine.” Her grip on Nyota’s shoulder lightened. “You can relax, you know. We don’t take grudges against entire families. I heard you’re on our side, and that’s good enough for me.”

“Taisa?” Oldarva’s voice had a faint tremble to it as she saw Nyota’s tension replaced with a kind of visual silence.

“My mother.”

Oldarva drew in a short breath. “The one who—”

“Yes.” Nyota kept her eyes on her snow-splattered boots. “My parents are both staunchly Miniknog. Mama was a spy, before I was born. She became a diplomat, after… I suppose I inherited a lot of what I can do from her,” she admitted, turning her gaze skyward. A few thick snowflakes caught on her eyelashes. “I just don’t know about Tarvei. I don’t know  _him._ ” She looked down again, back at Zoya.“He has told you, then, that we only met a few months ago?”

“Yeah, he did. No details, but that’s business between you and him,” Zoya said. She reached out and put her free hand under Nyota’s chin. “Chin up, milady. Our Lana said you reminded her what hope felt like. I haven’t heard her talk like that in years, and it sounds like you could use a reminder too. Come on. I’ll show you around.” 

-

Children.

Hadley walked into her as she stopped. Nyota didn’t notice. Children.

“Cute, aren’t they?” Zoya asked as she paused and turned back to watch. There were four of them playing in the snow, two obvious-siblings with lavender fur, an oddly familiar young girl with a warm amber mane, and a toddler thoroughly bundled up in a thick parka. They were building a snow-ape. At least, they were building their take on it. Apex usually didn’t have horns or breathe fabric fire.

“That purple pair is Mera’s,” Zoya explained, unruffled by Nyota’s silence. “Gena’s usually helping Mera out, so I guess we’re actually well-stocked for once. Mind Kseniya, she’s not too careful about where her snowballs go. Don’t think I know that golden one. Might be from another camp. …Hey now—” That last word was punctuated by widened eyes and a sharp stride toward the kids— “Who got Stas out here? It’s too cold!”

The children flocked around the little toddler as Zoya descended on them. “Mama said it was alright if we were careful,” Gena protested, scooping Stas up. The toddler snuggled his face into Gena’s soft purple fur.  “See, he’s warm.”

Zoya folded her arms. “And will Mera agree if I ask her about that?” she asked.

“She will!” Kseniya stood on her toes, short fur bristling in an effort to seem bigger as she defended her brother. “She said so. You can ask her!”

“It’s alright, Zoya.” Another apex detached herself from a cluster of conversation; Nyota recognized her with a startled jolt as the one that had treated her burns after the incident with the bandits, months ago. “I did say he could be outside. Stas has been getting restless from being cooped up all the time, and Gena at least is careful. Put that tongue back in your mouth, little one.” She put a finger over Kseniya’s lips. “It’ll freeze.”

“No it won’t,” Kseniya grumbled, but she obeyed. Gena smiled, patted her head, and passed Stas to her.

“You  _are_ sure about that, Mera?” Zoya watched the exchange with a nervous bounce under her heels. “He’s from a much warmer planet than this one.”

Mera reached down and picked up Kseniya and Stas together. “I am sure. He’s been here a good few weeks. An hour playing with other children won’t freeze him. Or make him sick,” she added before Zoya’s anxious protest could escape.

Zoya looked ready to argue, but she just shook her head. “As you say, Doctor. Go have fun, kids.” Nyota put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and Zoya nodded a little, putting her hand over Nyota’s.

“You meant well,” Mera said quietly. “There’s no harm done. But who are your guests?” She turned to look properly at Nyota and her crew. “You are familiar.”

“My name is Nyota.” Nyota extended a hand. “You treated me for burns a few months ago. I am Tarvei’s older sister.”

“Ah, young Tarvei.” A more comfortable smile warmed Mera’s expression as she accepted the handshake. “The resemblance is certainly visible. You’re the one who helped my Geo with that bandit pack, aren’t you? I should have recognized you sooner. Your eyes are quite unique.”

“I’m used to spooky, but unique sounds nicer.” A quiet laugh tickled Nyota’s throat. “It’s nice to see you again.”

The faint flicker in Mera’s smile stopped Nyota’s laugh cold. Hostility? But her tone remained cordial. “Was Zoya giving you the tour, then?”

“I was. Said something off-key, so I owed her this much at least, as an apology,” Zoya explained. She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly under Mera’s smile.

That smile didn’t fade as Mera said “You could stand to be a bit more cautious. She was kind enough to confirm herself as the apex I treated before. This is Agent Saimiri. You do know what Agents can do, Zoya?”

A stiff, cold silence. Nyota felt her crew press close around her; she had eyes only for Mera and Zoya. She couldn’t speak. She had no right to speak. And—

“So what?” Zoya’s nonchalance straightened Nyota’s back and forced air back into her lungs. “Our camp’s still standing.”

Mera’s brow creased sharply. “I don’t think you understand.”

Zoya stepped in front of Nyota, shoulders squared and chin set. “I think I get it better than most of us. Didn’t I lose my home camp to that? I notice yours is still here. You say she got here months ago, right? The Knog doesn’t wait that long to raze you.” She turned and looked Nyota in the eye. “Didn’t you hear the story? Blake said this girl took Big Ape himself out, one on one. Does that sound like a loyal Agent to you?”

Mera opened her mouth, shut it, frowned again, and shook her head.

“How long have you been out?” Zoya asked.

It took Nyota a moment to realize Zoya was talking to her. “Six… almost seven years,” she said quietly. “The week after my twenty-second birthday.”

Zoya whistled. “Hell of a birthday present.” She gave Mera a pointed look, then put a hand on Nyota’s shoulder. “Hey, Saimiri? Welcome home.”

Nyota closed her eyes and smiled. She put a hand over her newest friend’s. “Thank you, Zoya.”

“So, what say you we continue this tour?” Zoya asked, and Nyota opened her eyes again. “I still have to introduce you to our old matriarch.”


	16. Close / Aly

“The old lady that runs the show here is everyone’s grandma, so you play nice,” Zoya warned. “Oh, I mean that metaphorically. But seriously, keep it polite.”

“I will,” Nyota promised.

“Not you. That little human there.” Zoya flicked a hand at Hadley, who stuck out her tongue. “See what I mean? Got the aura of troublemaker all over her. I bet she gives you the hardest time, doesn’t she?”

Nyota was too busy laughing at the accurate read to answer. Hadley made an impolite gesture, which got Zoya laughing too.

“See? Exactly what I mean. Absolutely no respect for authority.” Her tone might have been indignant or disparaging if it weren’t for the deep, rumbling belly-laugh under her words.

“Joking. Do any of you have a huge respect for authority?” Arrowmail asked. “I mean… this is an apex  _rebel_ camp.” His eye-lights flickered and he hummed a low, uncertain tone. “Anxious. I mean no offense.”

Zoya’s eyes seemed to glow in a moment of inner fire, her grin fierce and wild. “It seems you have not spent enough time with our Blake. Now there’s a woman who will command your respect, no matter what you think.”

“Uncertain. You are quite intense about that.” Arrowmail shuffled in place before realizing he was getting left behind. A few rebels looked up from a game of snow-checkers as they heard his feet clanking along the cold rocks.

“We all are, about things we care about,” Zoya said. She turned back toward the well-trodden path. “Maybe I don’t look it, but I’m nearly fifty years old. That’s old, for a rebel. …old for an apex, really,” she added with a snort. “I’ve been here longer than Blake’s been alive, and I like what she’s done with the place, so to speak. We’re…  _closer_ now than we ever were.”

“You mean… to winning?” Oldarva asked, and flinched back a little when Zoya glanced toward her, but the golden apex’s eyes were gentle this time.

“Yes, but to each other as well.” There was a deep, nostalgic distance in Zoya’s voice. “I think that this is more unified than the rebellion has ever been. And so much of that is because of her.” She stopped, laughed, and shook her head, suddenly back in the moment and smiling as if her guests had cracked a joke. “But you really didn’t come here to listen to my rambling, now did you? Here we are at last. Aly’s just down here.”

Nyota’s crew climbed down the ladder Zoya showed them one by one. Nyota went last and paused at the top rung. “You will have to tell me more about that someday,” she said.

Zora sat on a snow-free patch beside her. “About what exactly?”

“About Lana. I want to learn more about her, and… not through the Miniknog’s eyes,” Nyota explained.

Zoya’s sharp barked laugh almost made Nyota lose her grip on the ladder rung. “Oh  _ho,_ so you  _are_ on first-name terms with the Commander! Ha!” The wild, fierce grin reappeared, stained with delight. “Geo owes me ten pixels.”

Scarlet flushed across Nyota’s ears. “You’ve been  _betting_?”  _Stars, how obvious are we?_

“Of course!” Zoya waved dismissively. “It’s not every day that Blake comes home sparkling like that. Geo said something about you, and I’m not quite as thick as I look.” She caught the mortification on Nyota’s face and patted her hand. “Don’t worry. It’s not like the whole rebellion knows. Just Geo and me here, and your brother, of course. Maybe Grandma Aly, because she’s smart like that, but she’s no gossip.”

Relief seeped out of Nyota’s bones and took her strength with it. “Whoa there!” Zoya cried and grabbed her wrist as her hands slipped on the rung. “It’s not that embarrassing, is it?”

Nyota held tight, gasping, for a long moment before she could find the thought to speak. “That isn’t… I was  _relieved_ ,” she murmured. Shame caught her throat as she realized how that must sound.

Zoya’s stare sharpened. “Relieved? Why?”

Nyota kept her eyes on her hands, knuckles whitened with the force of her grip. The metal rung groaned under her fingers. “It’s not that I don’t care about her… I love her, Zoya.” A small shock ran through her as she realized this was the first time she had said that out loud. “But… think about what that must look like. You saw—heard—Mera’s reaction to me. If you had not been there, it might have gotten ugly.”

“It still got ugly,” Zoya muttered darkly. “She’s got some nerve.”

“And she proved my point. Think of how it will go for  _Lana_. In love with the enemy. I know—” Nyota braced herself and raised a hand. “You will say I am not the enemy  _anymore_. But will enough people care? You’re close now. The rebellion—you said she brought you together. …I can’t break that.”

The silence felt like half a lifetime. Finally, Zoya said, “I’ll keep your secrets. She’ll understand if you tell it to her like that, but she won’t like it. You know you can’t keep it forever.”

Nyota sighed. “I know. Nothing ever does stay hidden forever, but I can at least minimize the damage I’ll do.”

She didn’t expect that reckless grin to come back. “You know how you do that?” Zoya asked. She leaned in close. “You be the best damn rebel you can be.”

Cold wind bit into Nyota’s lips as she bared her teeth in a matching grin, excitement too hot in her chest for her to feel the chill. “I plan to.”

“Good. And then…” Zoya leaned in even closer to whisper in Nyota’s ear. “When you have your nice audience and maybe the Miniknog Council at your feet, you kiss her for all you’re worth.”

Her cheerful laugh followed Nyota down the ladder shaft, bouncing off the metal walls and into Nyota’s blush-red ears as Nyota tried very hard not to smile too widely at the thought that left behind.

-

“Ah, and here is our famed Captain Saimiri at last. You  _do_ look just like your brother.”

A wide warm smile curved across Aly’s wrinkled, scarred face and Nyota suddenly, achingly thought of the grandmothers she had never met.  _So that is what Zoya meant._ “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, ma’am,” she said with a formal bow. “I may have looked more like him when I was younger, and my hair darker.”  _And my eyes natural,_ she thought, but knew better than to say.

“Nonsense.” Aly laughed and shook her own curly, snowy locks. There was a heavy scar between her eyes, up through the part in her hair. Nyota politely avoided staring. “It’s all in the face, really. Though he has a different nose, I see. Your father’s side of the line?” When Nyota nodded, Aly laughed again and said, “It’s an honor to welcome you to our little family here.”

Aly reached out, stopping far enough away for Nyota to react if she wanted. The courtesy of the gesture surprised Nyota. She took a moment to glance behind Aly; her crew was near her, standing to watch or enjoying blankets that Aly provided.  _I am safe._ Nyota nodded and stepped forward into Aly’s hug. The old apex smelled faintly of snow and pine smoke, and mostly of fur and warmth. Nyota could feel strength deep in her arms despite her age. Perhaps because of it. She knew of Aly. The old woman was a legend within the Miniknog, a swordmaster without equal in her youth and one of the only rebels to evade capture or assassination for so long. As Nyota stepped back and met Aly’s mismatched jade-and-fire eyes, as she saw the strong will still burning in them, she could believe all the rumors and more.

“Ever the soldier,” Aly teased. “You’re sizing me up even when I hug you. Good. That sort of thing is quite helpful out here.”

A memory sank its fangs into the back of Nyota’s mind, all the times she had been ridiculed for her wariness on Earth. The people who teased her for jumping at shadows, and the brave few who tried to be those shadows before learning how hard an apex could lash out. Startled by the sudden thickness in her throat, all Nyota could do was nod at Aly’s observation.

Aly caught the pause and her expression softened just a little bit. “You have had a hard time out there, haven’t you?” She dropped into the heavy rumble of Apex. The familiar sounds and her gentle knowing words prickled tears into the corners of Nyota’s eyes, much to the younger woman’s shock. “You will find many kindred spirits here,” Aly told her.

Nyota shook her head as the tears vanished, unshed, under sympathy and guilt. There was every chance she had personally caused the fear in at least some of the apex here.

As if she’d read Nyota’s thoughts, Aly leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Some of our best have come from the same place as you.  _Then_  is not  _now_. You are not alone, dear.”

Before Nyota could react to that information, before the gratitude and wonder took hold, Aly had straightened up again and shifted back to her heavily accented and warm Galactic Common. “So, may I offer you and yours something to drink and chase out the chill? Your little human is shivering, and this charming floran doesn’t look much warmer.”

Hadley glowered a little at having her weakness to the cold so blatantly pointed out. The effect was thoroughly spoiled by a violent wave of shivering. Namina, with no such issues against the truth, just nodded and leaned in closer to Lumen and Oldarva. Nyota realized with a curl of guilt just how much they had been hiding that on the walk through camp. Eldie smiled sympathetically and wrapped her arms around him as Sonny did similar for Hadley, pulling her closer to herself and Arrowmail.

“Encouraging. My motor is warm,” Arrowmail offered.

Hadley leaned on him. “Yeah. Thanks, Arrow.” She glanced at Nyota and a smirk curved her lips back. “What, you look like you got stepped on. I’m fine, Captain. …I just didn’t listen well when you told me to bundle up.”

“Floran iss desert floran,” Namina said, and pulled a blanket over his head. “Hot desert.”

Nyota chuckled softly and let the guilt fade. “And yet you both volunteered to come along. I think hot drinks would be lovely, Aly. And we brought food to go with them.”

She looked up and it seemed to her crew that she stole Aly’s smile, the warm affection spreading across Nyota’s face as Aly’s shifted to open surprise. She, Namina, Eldie, and Arjun shrugged off their packs and opened them; the surprise became delight.

“You brought us fruit.” The old woman’s voice was young with childlike pleasure and she knelt to help Nyota pull apples out of the bag.

“Some fresh, but most of it is candied or otherwise preserved,” Nyota said. “Muhlifain is cold, but I didn’t want to take too many risks. Our bodies endured enough rot under the Miniknog’s rations.”

Aly nodded in fervent agreement. “And these?” She indicated a set of sealed tins.

“Arrowmail managed to find a good supply of canned food at the Outpost, as well. He’s a clever haggler.” Nyota chuckled softly as Arrowmail’s LED eyes burned bright as blushing under the praise. “Go on. It’s yours, for your camp.”

Aly touched Nyota’s hand for permission, then pulled both her and a startled Arjun into a hug. She pulled back after a long moment and looked Nyota in the eyes. “No one sent word ahead. You waited to reveal this until you came to me.”

“I wanted to be honest.” Nyota caught Arjun’s surprised stare with a faint, knowing, strange smile. “I wouldn’t have withheld it. But I won’t buy my place with this.”

Aly rested her hand on Nyota’s head, a gesture Nyota had seen but never felt before. A gesture of love, from family to family. “Thank you.”


	17. Stories and Scuffles / Mentor's Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'd meant to post a bunch of chapters in a row but Life Happened hard at the start of July and I'm only just getting back in gear from that >.>;; Hopefully I can make good on that coming up though

“Were you planning to stay a while, Captain Saimiri?” Aly asked, setting down her mug. The dregs still smelled of spiced honey and thick, fruity jam. The old apex leaned back and closed her eyes, the picture of bliss. “You can visit as often as you like if you bring more of this. I haven’t had it since I snuck into that Miniknog dinner party. I must have been about your age…”

Nyota laughed around her own mug, remembered to swallow, and lowered it back to her lap. The heat soaked into her knuckles as she rubbed her nose in an effort to keep any drink from escaping that way. “A Miniknog dinner party. That must have been quite the adventure.”

Aly opened one eye with a clever smirk. “Oh, it was. I used to be quite the fireball. Not too much unlike your little Hadley there.” She pointed at Hadley, who stopped looking star-struck and started indignant. “Now don’t spit your drink at me. You haven’t even tried to hide those violet eyes, have you, girl?”

Hadley grumbled, but settled back again, mollified. “So you know who I am and I’m supposed to be impressed.”

“Impressed? Hardly. I just know my history. Your grandmother used to cause all manner of trouble for the Miniknog. Or was it your great-grandmother?” Aly tapped her chin with one finger as Hadley sat up straight again. “She made a mess of their trade with Letheia, though. Did us quite the favor without meaning it.”

“That’d be Great-Grandma Iris,” Hadley said, but she relaxed again and sipped at her drink. It was a strange flavor for her, sweet but spicy. The three apex had almost drained theirs; she didn’t know how they managed it. Namina leaned over to swipe her mug and she swatted him away. “Hey, buzz off. Drink your own.”

The mood frosted a little. Namina wilted under Nyota’s sharp warning stare and stuck to his own drink.

“I’m afraid we aren’t visiting too long this time,” Nyota told Aly. “We are in orbit now, but we’ll be moving on soon.”

Aly snorted. “Always so busy. It’s plain to see you’re Protectorate.”

Nyota paused in mid-sip. Her words came slowly. “Did you know many people from the Protectorate?”

“Not by name, but stories came back to us from time to time from those who did meet them.” Her smile aged: nostalgia, love, loss, remembrance. “They had some fine ideas.”

There was a quiet pause. Then Aly looked up, a fierce edge in her smile again. “And some fine fighters as well. How about it, Captain? Will you go a round?”

Nyota tried to keep her hesitation out of her eyes. “Are you certain, ma’am?”

Aly caught the pause anyway and gave her a wry smile. “Yes, I am aware that I’m old. I’m not decrepit yet.” In case Nyota remained unconvinced, she added, “Think of it as exercise to keep these limbs spry and strong, won’t you?”

Aly’s smile held too much challenge in it, and Nyota found herself remembering just how long it had been since she last had a good scuffle with anyone. Not since that last spar with Oldarva, she realized with a quiet shock. “Very well. Let’s keep it gentle, for both our sakes.”

Memory made her pause as she stood. “Please, avoid my left leg.” Habit and old paranoia hissed at her for revealing that weakness so easily, but she remembered the pain and helplessness after as the scars wrenched her down. Those were worse. And Oldarva’s fear and worry…

“I will,” Aly promised, and the paranoia quieted.

They stepped into the middle of the room. Nyota heard Namina exchanging bets with Arjun and Hadley as she removed her heavy boots; even in practice, those would hurt. Aly caught her eye and smiled with more than a little mischief. She had heard them too.

“I hope you don’t mind if I move first,” Aly said cordially. “For some reason, people must think that because I am old, they must walk on banana peels around me.”

Nyota tilted her head to accept her offer and indicate she was ready. “You mean eggshells?”

“No.” Aly hooked her foot around Nyota’s right ankle and Nyota had to stumble backward to stay upright. The mischief glinted stronger. “I mean banana peels.”

Nyota bared her teeth in a stunning imitation of Lana’s wild and fierce grin. “You sly old—”

“Watch it, my dear, there are children here,” Aly teased. She stepped away from Nyota’s lunge by a hair’s breadth.

“I’m twenty,” Hadley grumbled. “Just short.”

Aly just laughed and made Nyota dance back out of her reach again.

White flicked past her eyes. She ducked—grabbed—caught fabric just an instant before it pulled away again with Aly’s barking laughter. Nyota was laughing too, silent, mouth open and fangs bared in a wild grin. She could feel Aly adapting to her, herself adapting to Aly. She ducked and lunged again and caught this time, and there was nothing but the moment, her heart and Aly’s pounding hard and strong, pounding in time. The pressure, the closeness, the smell of fur and snow and sweet-salt sweat.

Then Aly’s voice cut through, still chuckling. “Alright, big girl. Get off me.”

Nyota smiled sheepishly and helped the old woman up. Aly rolled a shoulder and tilted her head until the joints popped.

“That’s better. An excellent pin, my dear, and fine technique. I don’t think I’ll be feeling it too long.” She dusted her arms off and shook out her curly mane, then offered Nyota a conciliatory hand. “And you? No lasting damage, I hope?”

Nyota took her hand. The firm grip was less surprising now that she had tasted the strength behind it. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “You’re a very good partner.”

“Likewise.” Aly caught her eye with a satisfied smile. “You are quite careful when you spar, aren’t you? Some of our wilder young pups could learn a thing or two from you.” She nodded a few times, then reached toward her toes to stretch out her back with a series of light crackling sounds that were both satisfying and wince-worthy. “I didn’t think I would ever have a friendly round with one of old Aram’s students.”

Nyota’s back went stiff. She knew better than to deny. “You can tell?”

The old woman’s smile softened. “I won’t tell anyone else, dear,” she promised gently, putting her other hand over Nyota’s. “I won’t pin his works on you.”

“What’s this about Aram?” Arjun leaned forward, tucking his hands under his chin with a dark frown. He hadn’t caught Aly’s reassurance. “Something up, Nyota?”

She tried to deny it with a shake of her head. “Nothing important.” She saw his frown deepen and realized that was the wrong thing to say.

“That old coot and I have crossed swords enough times for me to recognize his style when it’s imitated,” Aly explained, her proud, calm voice pushing through the stiff silence. “You move a lot like he did when he was young. You’ve certainly made the style your own,” she added with that now-familiar quiet chuckle. “That was more fun than I’ve had in a long while.”

Nyota looked away from her too-kind mismatched eyes. “Do you know if he’s still alive, Aly?”

The pause lasted too long, long enough for fear and grief to sink into Nyota’s gut, together with guilt, guilt that she would grieve for an enemy of the rebellion and guilt that she had never said goodbye.

But the pause ended; Aly was just thinking. “I would have heard if he died,” she said at last, and Nyota let out a quiet breath she had not realized she was holding. “Aram Isret is far too important to vanish without a trace. There would be some echoes, no matter what.”

Nyota managed to stifle her fear this time as Aly’s words hit far too close to home. She caught Oldarva watching her and shook her head slightly. Eldie, at least, would be safe. She left only those echoes that her family could hold. Nothing like the ones that Nyota herself had left behind.

“The news confuses you.” Aly’s voice cut through Nyota’s thoughts and stung like a live wire.

Nyota looked up and locked eyes with her. There was no challenge or rebuke in her voice, but she still held it firm. “I may still have some secrets, ma’am.”

Not a question. An order, of a sort she hadn’t dared to give even to her crew, like she had once given as Agent Saimiri. The kind that took no questions. A dangerous gambit in the heart of a rebel camp, to that camp’s own leader. But it hurt too much to allow the old woman to pry so deep.

Shock registered for a moment. The room was silent, so still that Nyota could hear the quiet static drone of the two novakid watching her. Then Aly bowed her head. “My apologies, Captain Saimiri. Please forgive this nosy old woman. She does not mean to open locked doors.”

Nyota was silent long enough for the fur along Aly’s shoulders to show her tension, her fear of a new bond broken. But there was a quiet clink of ceramic, and Aly looked up as Nyota turned back toward her with a refilled, steaming mug in each hand. She offered one, and Aly took it and smiled.

Arjun shook his head and wondered.


End file.
